The Trials of Being a Half Blood
by Team Alpha Wolf Squadron
Summary: Reincarnation fic. Achilles, son of Thetis, was sent on a supply run when he met Patroclus. While feeling like he's found his missing piece, he finds keeping his Godly side away from Patroclus something of a challenge. Achiiles/Patroclus
1. Chapter 1

They were shopping. The mall was overcrowded with people from all backgrounds and origins. All of them bustling in their own hurries to get on with their day to day lives.

He had came here with Odysseus, originally, for sweets. His supply was low, not to mention he wanted some new posters for his cabin. Somehow from then to now Odysseus had managed to turn their small list into three pages long, front and back. How they were going to sneak all of this back in to camp was beyond him. Sure, Mr D wasn't all that concerned when a few of them sneaked out. But Chiron... the centaur missed nothing.

They had went for the Aphrodite kids things first. Theirs took the longest since the two of them had to fight through hordes of teenage girls and shop assistants to the right products. Even then they had a bit of trouble. Creams and lotions all looked the same to him. After they had got the make-ups they were left looking at hair straighteners and other torture looking devices.

They finally finished with the Aphrodite kids things around noon. Achilles, being invincible from a week old, was charged with holding all the heavy bags as they went after the Hermes kids things next. They were much easier to get. Sweets and fizzy drinks, things Achilles loved. They finished with that list much quicker than the other one.

"Ares cabin wants a fold-able chair," Achilles read off. "Why do they want a chair?"

"They caught one of the Hermes kids in their cabin last night. They're going to tie him up and pelt him with last night's chile when we get back," Odysseus replied.

Immediately Achilles was on guard. While it was true everyone had to be careful when around a child of Hermes, when they did something like sneak into the Ares cabin they were barely ever caught. To be so now... Odysseus was up to something.

He put that thought away. He didn't want to get involved, he'd leave that up to Odysseus at a later date.

When they had finished the last of the other cabin's demands they went for their own. Odysseus had the familiar stops at the book shop and the hardware store. However there was one stop that made Achilles eyebrow raise.

"Why are we at the pharmacy? You're not ill are you?" He kept a wide berth. That was all he needed, catching a common cold when chariot season was starting.

"No," Odysseus said.

It turned out he wanted something worse than cough medicine.

"Three tubes?" Achilles hissed.

Odysseus just smirked at him, loading another tube of lube into his basket. "We like to let off steam after a hard day."

Achilles could hear the sarcasm, but the image wouldn't leave him of the thirteen grey eyed kids that glared every time he went past, tossing off. It didn't help when Odysseus tossed in a horde of condoms, looking him the eye as he did so.

It was just like Odysseus to pay for them with a straight face, even asking which kind was better to the embarrassed retail assistant. He didn't mention what he needed them for all the way to the music shop. Achilles didn't say anything either. What Odysseus might actually need them for was probably worse than thirteen grey eyed kids tossing off.

CD players beckoned out to him. What he would have wished for a CD player. Unfortunately Thetis being a water Goddess meant no plugs in the cabin. A true problem he needed to bring up at the next cabin meeting. Or at least get an Ipod.

For now however, he was content with plastering his walls with his favourite musicians. Thankfully he was the only one in his cabin. It was lonely at times, but right now it meant he could decorate the whole place without anyone complaining.

He found his posters in minutes, and was making to pay when he saw him.

He was like a model. Or he would have been had he not hunched in on himself. He looked to be Achilles age, sixteen/ seventeen. Standing with an older man, who had to be his father, he thankfully only had the man's jawline. The rest of his looks came from his mother's side. The woman herself was staring dreamily at the salesperson playing the piano. Her face was round, exotic, and far more appealing on her son.

"You're staring," Odysseus sang. Achilles would have been annoyed if it weren't for the frown on his face. He'd seen that look far too many times in the three years they had known each other.

"Monster?"

His fingers went for the spear he kept in his pocket. Shrunken down into a gold headband it itched to turn back into the golden beauty he had received on his first day at camp.

Odysseus shook his head, "No." Yet the frown didn't leave his face. "Just pay for your music. Even if there isn't any monsters now, there might be."

Huffing, Achilles did as he was bid. Hoisting his posters high he made for the till, only to find his legs taking him to the boy. He wondered of it was just piano music he liked. Achilles lyre came to mind. An unusual instrument for a modern boy, but one he just felt right in his hands. He wondered if the boy would like to hear him play.

The father was looking bored as he neared. Shuffling his feet, he looked about three minutes away from dragging his wife and son out. Panicked, Achilles closed the distance.

"You look more like a cellist than a pianist," Achilles opened with. It was the best he could come up with on short notice. Not to mention he thought it might be true. His fingers were long and smooth, just right to grasp the handle of a string instrument.

"I can't play either," The boy said. It was hard to tell with his dark skin but Achilles was sure the boy blushed.

"I'm sure you could if you tried."

The boy let loose a little grin. As he did so, Achilles watched as his shoulders straightened. "And how do you figure that then?"

A boasting, self satisfied grin slipped onto Achilles face. One people usually saw when he was pointing his spear at their throats. "I don't lie."

The boy huffed, looking like the sun had just paid him a visit. His mouth opened in some retort that was bound to make his heart melt when his father cut in with a hand on his shoulder. Immediately the boy shrank in on himself, an uneasy feeling came over Achilles just watching that display.

"I'd thank you not to talk to my son," He more growled than said.

Maybe this man was a monster, Achilles thought. He certainly sounded like one.

A hand pulled him, almost stumbling down. Odysseus. The eighteen year old knew Achilles better than he did himself. Knew when to step in so he wouldn't harm an attractive boys father.

The haze of anger that came over him fled quickly. Chiron was already going to give him an earful for sneaking out, Achilles thought, best not to add endangerment to mortals to his list of crimes.

So as Odysseus made the last of their excuses, "... dropped in a river at birth you see..." Achilles dusted himself off and allowed himself to be dragged out.

"My posters," Achilles protested weakly. He was trying to look behind him for a last look at the boy. His dark curls disappearing as they rounded the corner.

It was like being released from a spell. Achilles felt the air grow stale around him. Colour no longer seemed as bright. His soul even felt stretched, as stupid as that sounded. He just felt like everything good in the world had been left behind in that music shop.

"Achilles!"

He batted away Odysseus' hands as they came to flick him again.

"Focus for Zeus' sake, if we're going to get out of here alive I need your full attention."

He readied himself as the bags were, once again, thrust into his hands. Once all of them were set they headed towards the nearest exit. If they were lucky they would make the four o clock bus. If they were unlucky... Odysseus was already pissy.

They were standing at the bus stop. Achilles thanking every God he could think of that he had immortal blood. The bags were weighing him down. On a mortal he was sure their arms would have dropped off by now.

The bus was taking its time. A bad omen for people like them. Or perhaps a good one, Achilles thought, as a horde of curls ran nearer to him. It was the boy from the music shop. Alone but harried, he was making straight for them.

"Wait," He shouted, like Achilles was about to board the bus that hadn't came.

He was just as handsome as Achilles remembered. Even more so now the sun shone off his bronze skin. How Achilles would like to murmur Greek nothings into that skin...

"Don't do anything stupid," Odysseus warned, reminding him of his presence there.

"Like what?" He hissed before shutting up and giving the boy his full attention. "Hi," he was sure he was grinning stupidly.

"Hi," the boy breathed back. He thrust a bag out in front of him, "You left this at the shop."

It wasn't a bag he was familiar with. When he looked inside he found the posters he had left in the music shop. The boy had bought them for him. Achilles thought the boy couldn't get any more perfect.

Now he knew a dopey smile was on his face as he said, "Thanks."

The boy held his hand out to shake, dropping it when he noticed the rest of the bags. Achilles didn't care. He'd throw all this crap in the Styx if the boy wanted a hand shake. But the hand didn't come back up. Instead Achilles got something much better.

"Patroclus," The boy rushed out, "My name that is. It's Patroclus."

Achilles felt like laughing and did so. Fate was being kind to him.

The boy, Patroclus, didn't see what was so funny however. He looked insulter actually as Achilles continued laughing.

"No," Achilles rushed, as he realised his mistake. "I'm not laughing at you. Patroclus. It's a good name. Perfect in fact. I only laughed because... well my name is Achilles."

Patroclus frowned, an adorable crease in his smooth skin that Achilles wanted to memorise. "Like the tendon."

"The hero," Odysseus cut in. "He prefers the hero."

Only the second child to be born by Thetis and his mother wasn't all that original with his name, or his life. Sometimes he felt like he was reliving the original Achilles' life. Right now he honestly didn't care. Not if Achilles' Patroclus was this boy in front of him.

Awareness came over Patroclus. A small 'oh' escaping. His frown didn't lesson however as he asked, "So what does that have to do with my name?"

Achilles almost slammed Odysseus to the ground for his exasperated "Really?" like Patroclus was an idiot. Honestly, he thought, just because they knew about the myths didn't mean everyone did.

"It's not important," Achilles amended. "But Patroclus is a great name."

"So's yours," Patroclus grinned at him. The two of them standing there like idiots as they stared at each other.

Achilles thought he could do that for years without getting tired of him. Just looking until he could bring the image up wherever he went.

Unfortunately for him that wasn't possible. Patroclus' father had gotten tired of waiting wherever he was and went in search of him. By the way his face contorted Achilles gathered the man wasn't happy his son had doing a good deed. Shouting him over, the smiling idiot Patroclus had been left. In its place was a boy who actually flinched at the sound of his own father.

Achilles wondered why on the way along Long Island. Patroclus was old enough to at least shout back at his father. Hera knew he told his mother off enough times and she was a goddess. Not to mention he was smart, he could probably think up a number of ways to get away from his father. Well he thought Patroclus was smart. Anyone who remembered the tendon rather than the hero when hearing his name had to me.

He was snapped out of his musings by Odysseus. His friend had been rifling through their bags for something only to laugh like a banshee the next. When asked what, he just handed over Achilles' posters to him. He felt his blood run cold. Alongside his posters was a tube of strawberry lube and a sizeable cock ring with a little note attached.

 _You dropped this_

Along with a phone number and Patroclus' full name.

"When did you buy this?" Achilles choked out. Not what he meant to say but his mind wasn't working right now.

"When you turned your back," Odysseus chuckled. Rolling his eyes he took the items out and transferred them to his own bag. "I'm planning on using it for-"

"No! We're too good friends to share" Achilles snapped.

Odysseus laughed again. "You should be thanking me. You have his phone number thanks to this stunt."

"Just shut up."

Off the bus, they made the climb up Half Blood Hill with ease. While not being attacked every minute by monsters they were still surprised when their trip out had went off without a hitch. Of course their luck ran out as soon as they were back in safe territory.

Chiron, his sternest gaze on and seeming three feet taller than usual was waiting for them at the bottom. Chastised was a soft word for what Chiron gave them. Mr D was a little better. After hours of threats of mutilation and being changed into dolphins they were let go.

The rest of camp was disappointed in them. Chiron had taken their goods. So much sugar was bad for them. No argument of it being the other kids money they spent had worked on the centaur. In fact, it inspired even more lengthy talks about how stupid their little outing had been.

"We weren't in any danger," Odysseus scoffed, more to himself than Achilles. "I'm not exactly big three, and you being the spawn of a minor Goddess... it was unlikely we would actually be sniffed out."

"You should save your breath for your siblings," Achilles warned. They were cresting the pavilion. The twelve main cabins were gleaming out at them, their campers glaring from the doorways. As Achilles looked he saw Odysseus' siblings giving them one of the most evil looks out of everyone. "Or at least the Ares cabin," Achilles corrected as they made themselves known.

He made sure to run off before Odysseus tried to get him in more trouble with them.

His own cabin was waiting on the outskirts. Near the ocean and one of the last ones to be built it was still a work in progress. Small, with white and grey walls that looked like sea foam. Little rocks lead to his front door, somehow they always seemed to be wet.

The inside was bare save for Achilles things littering the floor. He wished he had his posters. They would have brightened up the place a little bit.

Sighing, at least he had Patroclus' phone number. He'd clutched on to that as soon as he'd seen it. His dyslexia, naturally, made it hard to read the numbers. It took him a frustrating hour to decipher them. Even longer to remember them since he kept forgetting and having to make them out again. But when he did have it, he took care to look over every individual number. Every loopy 0 and every straight 1. They were just as interesting as Patroclus himself to Achilles.

He wished he had a picture of him. Just something to look at so he didn't have to concentrate on thinking about him. Odysseus would be calling him creepy by now. He should think himself creepy too. He didn't even know this kid. But... he just seemed so familiar. He knew from their brief meeting that he was kind. He had kind eyes. Those hands as well... Not to mention he liked music. Achilles bet he sat and listened to it as much as he could. He would probably be like his mother when he was alone. Listening with such rapt attention to things Achilles couldn't even guess at.

His lyre called to him from that thought. He heeded it with a stretch of his arm. Strumming lightly he composed and played until he could put a tune to those big brown eyes.

He hadn't realised how late it was until someone knocked on his door. Chiron was on the other side, a blare of orange behind him as the sun set. His hooves scuffed the dirt, an air of unease in every swish of his tail.

"You're late for dinner," The centaur hinted, moving aside to let him out.

Sorry."

The centaur waved his apologies away to hurry him over to the pavilion. Achilles thought he was in trouble. Chiron never came to get campers himself. Not usually anyway. He thought about the condoms Odysseus had bought earlier. He really hated his friend.

"That was an interesting tune," the centaur eventually said.

"You've heard it before?" Achilles groaned. It wasn't the first time he had created something he thought was original, only for Chiron to say its name and comment on how well Achilles played. The centaur said it was because he was an old soul. Achilles often wondered how old.

The centaur was nodding now. Confirming that Achilles had no hope for an original piece with this one. "Once upon a time. A boy much like yourself made it up. Dare I ask the reason for its playing now?"

Achilles shrugged, "I was thinking about Patroclus."

The centaur stopped dead in his tracks. Strong arms grasped his shoulders, "What?"

Realising his mistake Achilles laughed, "No. I was thinking about a boy we met at the mall. His name was Patroclus. Do you think it's fate?" he asked eagerly.

"Perhaps," the centaur mused., looking more calm. His hands released him as he trotted forwards again. "But I wouldn't think down that path if I were you. A certain someone might not be too happy with your interaction with this mortal."

Achilles knew which certain someone Chiron meant and wholeheartedly agreed. His mother hated mortals as a whole. If she didn't need their devotion to continue existing Achilles thought she might have killed them all herself. If she even got wind of another mortal, and one called Patroclus, hanging around Achilles, he was sure to be in trouble.

The other campers didn't bat an eye as he walked to his table. Usually they would be clambering around him. He had an uncanny knack for fighting to start, and people were always issuing challenges to him. It all came from being invulnerable. Apparently the original Achilles hadn't actually been bathed in the river Styx as a child, Thetis wanted to rectify that with him. They also liked talking to him because, along with Odysseus, they had a natural with Ancient Greek. Most of the time they wanted to try their pronunciation on them and often asked for tutoring. Achilles though it was because he was, like Chiron said, 'an old soul.' An old soul who was probably Greek. It made sense. Most of the time he preferred speaking it to English. His first word was apparently Greek, and most of Odysseus' conspiring was done in Greek.

Now however they were ignoring him. Something Achilles was okay with. Sometimes he didn't like the attention people gave him. It was suffocating. With invulnerability comes expectation apparently.

Unfortunately for him this ignorance didn't spread to Odysseus. His friend managed to corner him at the fire as he sacrificed most of his meal to his mother. With the few minutes it took to do so Odysseus had managed to tell Achilles of his plan.

"... are you in?" He finished, the pair of them walking slowly back to their respective benches.

"Do you really need me?"

Odysseus shot him a dark look before he turned a coy brow on him. Negotiation was always a factor in his plans. "If you help I'll let you keep the strawberry lube."

"Pass," He hissed, pushing past his smirking friend.

Odysseus wasn't one to give up. Just before he parted he gave his real bargaining item up, "I have a phone that's all yours if you help." Leaving before Achilles could even form a response.

He was thinking over Odysseus' offer later that night.

He didn't have a phone. His father had given him one when he was thirteen. To be used in emergencies and chatting with his friends. It had been good for all of three weeks. People had given him his number and he had responded like they wanted. If only he knew that phones sent off a signal to monsters. He was ambushed for weeks before finally smashing the phone. His father hadn't given him another one since. Especially when he went to Camp Half Blood. The warning Chiron gave him meant paper and pen for the two of them while Achilles was at camp.

He supposed he could always borrow someone's phone and ask for Patroclus' address. Explain that he didn't have a phone himself and would prefer to write instead. Patroclus would probably write tonnes. He looked quiet, but on paper everyone was different.

With writing however came another obstacle. His dyslexia. He had good grades because Odysseus forced him to learn. When reading letters however, even those from his father, he often lost interest or grew frustrated and threw them away. Then there was his own writing, while he usually starts off in English it usually ended up Greek. He didn't want to grow bored with Patroclus' writing. Or Patroclus think he was joking with him and not send him any letters.

He needed that phone.

At breakfast he said so to Odysseus.

"After we finish getting our stuff back," his friend smirked.

The operation was simple. Achilles was to cause a fight while Odysseus scoured the Big House for their stuff.

With so many people upset with him it wasn't hard to find someone angry at him. However it would take more than one fight for Chiron to leave one of Mr D's games. So instead he started a war.

The Aphrodite kids were busy swarming around Camp Half Blood's newest couple, which meant their cabin was empty. It was all too easy for him to sneak in and steal all of their hair straighteners and curlers. Planting them in the Demeter cabin he just had to wait.

Sure enough ten minutes later they were screaming about their missing items. Achilles pointed them in the right direction, knowing they would believe him because he didn't like to lie.

In under an hour the Aphrodite kids had picked up their weapons and were marching to war. As soon as Chiron left Odysseus went into action. Mr D wasn't all that concerned with them. So long as they didn't interrupt his fun he didn't care that they sneaked around. Therefore Odysseus was out with their things long before Chiron came back.

Achilles met him at the arena. Already they had a small crowd grabbing their purchases. Odysseus left them to it.

"He didn't even hide them," Odysseus said. "He probably knew we were going to get them back."

"Probably," Achilles agreed, taking the lube his friend thrust at him. "Now get me that phone."

He didn't look at the thing until he was back from dinner.

"I can do this," He said to himself. Patroclus' number was glaring at him. The black ink was taunting him. He wasn't a coward, he could do this. So he picked up the device and did just that. He called Patroclus.

At the third ring Achilles knew this was a good idea.

"Hello?"

He even sounded pretty on the phone. How that was possible Achilles didn't know.

It was an awkward beginning. The two of them making sure they were the boy they saw the day before. After that Achilles dove straight into the multitude of questions he wanted answering. Did Patroclus really like music? Yes, he did. The reason they were at the music shop to begin with was so he could find an instrument. His father, while hating the whole concept of music, agreed that Patroclus should try and find something that would look good on a college application.

Achilles told Patroclus about his lyre after that. Telling him that was rather good. Even proposing Patroclus listen to him play some time. He was grinning like an idiot when Patroclus accepted.

They spent hours talking to each other. It was only when someone knocked on his cabin telling him it was lights out that he realized how late it was. Neither of them wanted to hang up. They ended up making plans to talk the next day.

He fell asleep when they finished with the biggest grin on his face, that stayed there all through breakfast. Odysseus took pride in making fun of him for it.

Around noon, just as he finished picking his arrows out of their target, Odysseus cornered him again. "Capture the flag's in two days."

Achilles sighed. "What do you want?"

Odysseus was never usually concerned with capture the flag. To him it was pointless. If he wanted to try out his war strategies, he said, he would start a real war. Which he did more often than not. Achilles still cringed when thinking back on the Ares Hermes war Odysseus had started, and finished, within a whole week.

To be thinking about capture the flag now could only mean he had an ulterior motive. One Achilles didn't want to be a part of.

His friend was used to this resistance however and knew how to play Achilles just right.

"I want to know if you're on my team."

"I'm not playing," Achilles told him.

A condescending smirk came to Odysseus' face. 'Sure you're not' he seemed to say. "Then how about the chariot races? With my cabin leader off on a quest, it's up to me to keep Athena's pride."

"No."

"Then how about a friendly sparring match?"

Achilles looked him over, "What do you want?" he asked again.

Odysseus rolled his eyes, all signs of pretence gone. "Fine, I want your help escaping this place again."

"Why?"

He shrugged, "Excitement. Freedom. A chance to see your Patroclus..."

"Don't even try," Achilles warned. There was no way he was using Patroclus to get Achilles to help him.

"Why not? You can't be satisfied with just phoning him."

"We just met two days ago," Achilles protested, even if he did have the urge to see Patroclus again.

"All the more reason to see him again," Odysseus argued.

The pair of them stopped talking when Chiron came near. The archery master cast them a suspicious look before trotting on. He was still near enough to hear them however. The centaur had learnt over the years when the two of them were in cahoots. He finally left them alone when all they talked about was the new bronze tipped arrows the Hepheaston cabin had made.

Out of sight and Odysseus started again. "You're not exactly unattractive Achilles. But time away from Patroclus, with only the phone to talk, could make his eyes start to wander."

"It's not working," He said. "Try again in a few days."

Odysseus smirked, that was what he wanted after all. "Will do."

Which he followed up on a few days later. It had only been a week since he had met Patroclus. Every evening they would spend it on the phone together getting to know each other. Patroclus laughing when Achilles told him he liked sports.

"I thought you might," He had said.

Patroclus was more interested in how the body worked than actually moving it. He told Achilles about his desire to be a doctor. The two of them spent hours after that trying to name all the body parts they could think of. Achilles just so he could hear Patroclus' voice some more. Patroclus because Achilles thought he just wanted to show off a bit.

But he didn't want to just hear Patroclus anymore. He wanted to see him again. See if those eyes were as big as he remembered. See if that hair was as fluffy as he thought it was. So when Odysseus proposed they sneak out again he was all for it.

That evening he asked Patroclus if he wanted to meet him.

"We can go to the mall. Or for a run. Anywhere you want. Just tell me where you are," Achilles proposed.

There was silence on Patroclus' end. Then, "The mall sounds good."

"Great! Be there at eleven," Achilles said, hanging up and sprinting off to tell Odysseus the good news before either of them changed their minds.

Sneaking out was always easy. Even if they had a dragon guard he was only there for the fleece. They made around him with ease and towards the bus stop even easier. The ride there was long but rewarding when he saw Patroclus standing where they had arranged to meet.

He was just as cute as last time. Some kind of band t-shirt on and his hair sticking up behind his ears like Achilles remembered.

Odysseus said goodbye as soon as the bus had stopped, the two of them arranging a time to meet back up to sneak back to camp. Which meant that he was free, for the next five hours, to ogle and admire as much as he liked without anyone hissing in his ear.

"So what do you want to do?" Achilles asked.

Patroclus must have been there a while. Holding up a pair of tickets he said, "I thought we could go for something to eat afterwards."

"Sounds great," Achilles agreed, until he saw what they were going to see.

It was a documentary about American Bootlegging. Interesting subject when not narrated by a man who sounded like Mr D about to go to sleep. Patroclus seemed interested however, so Achilles tried for his sake. About the time speakeasies came on-screen his ADHD had kicked in. His hands were everywhere, he couldn't get comfortable. His legs had been on and off the chair in front of him so many times he was annoying himself.

He was playing with the straw in his drink again when his hand was grabbed and put between them. Suddenly the movie didn't seem so bad.

Patroclus' hand was a pleasant weight in his. It didn't squeeze too tightly or grasp too loosely, just made itself known. Achilles tried to look at it. The movie theatre was too dark to see much. Every so often the film would light up Patroclus' skin a dull grey. Every time it did Achilles would grin. It was proof that Patroclus really was holding his hand.

Of course that didn't stop his feet from moving. The whole situation made them jitter more.

He was thanking every God and Goddess he could name when the credits rolled. Not letting Patroclus go he dragged him out and into the fresh air of the mall.

"That was good," Patroclus said.

Achilles couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Then again, he had picked the movie. He probably did think that was good.

"Let's get something to eat," Achilles proposed, trying to avoid letting his own views about the documentary be questioned.

Something to eat turned out to be the nearest fast food place they could find. About half way into his burger Achilles noticed the little grin on Patroclus' face as he watched him.

"What?" He wiped his face just in case there was something there.

"Nothing," Patroclus said, looking back down at his food. "It's just you really like burgers."

"Huh?" Achilles knew what he meant, halfway through another bite he heard himself. Moaning like he had just found the greatest thing in the world. Patroclus was grinning again, trying not to make his amusement known. Achilles chuckled himself, "Alright, I hear it. We just don't get much junk food at camp."

Patroclus 'ah-ed.' "I was wondering why I'd never seen you at school. So which camp?"

Achilles shrugged, "Just a camp."

Achilles liked Patroclus more when he didn't press. Instead he turned the conversation to Achilles' dad. He'd told Patroclus about him the other day.

"He's doing well. Missing me- I think," Achilles said, he couldn't decipher his father's last letter. "But he's got the other boys to keep him occupied so I don't think it's that bad."

His father had decided that one boy wasn't enough when Achilles was dropped on his doorstep. A runaway himself he often fostered boys. Currently there were six boys living in his house with him. Seven if the other boy his father was interviewing decided he liked him.

"That's good," Patroclus agreed. "What about your mother?"

"She's well," Achilles said, not knowing how else to put it. Last time he had seen her she had warned him against making friends with Odysseus. That was four months ago. She always was good at the silent treatment. Still, Achilles thought, it was better having a mother who saw him than one who pretended he didn't exist like Odysseus'. "And yours?"

Patroclus nodded. Achilles had noted he didn't talk about his parents much. His mother, sometimes. If only to say she had done this or that during the day. His father however, was never mentioned. Achilles wanted to bring it up, but he didn't want to press his luck. They hadn't known each other that long after all. So he kept quiet about it and started on about his lyre instead.

"I have this one song," Achilles gushed, "I've been playing it a lot lately. If you want, I can play if for you tonight, over the phone?" He really wanted to. The song, no matter how hard he tried, kept playing itself whenever he thought about Patroclus. About the third time this had happened he had given up trying to play something original and continued with that tune. For all he knew Chiron was the only one who knew the song.

"Okay," Patroclus agreed. "This is on your lyre right?"

Achilles nodded, explaining, for the third time he thought, about what it looked like. He really was proud of it. As soon as he heard the Apollo cabin sometimes made their own instruments he had asked them to teach him. His lyre had been born after four months of constant attention. A lovely dark brown with gold lined along the top. He had managed to carve a little story on it too. Specifically the shooting of the original Achilles. If anything, he had thought at the time, they would know it was his.

They were walking through the mall, window shopping for lack of anything better to do. Achilles didn't mind. Any time spent with Patroclus was good.

"So I looked you up when I got home," Patroclus said.

"You did?" He didn't think there was anything on the internet about him. Nothing interesting anyway.

Patroclus cleared the air when he said, "The hero. I've never really done classics before. But I thought I remembered something about Achilles. It turns out he's really interesting."

"Yeah, he's okay," Achilles grinned. Patroclus had looked up something for him.

"So... Patroclus," he dithered around.

Achilles laughed, "Fate right?"

There was a blush rising on Patroclus' cheeks. "Yes. I suppose." He cleared his throat, "So Patroclus was Achilles... friend?"

"Lover," Achilles sang, enjoying his embarrassment.

It worked as Patroclus swallowed, "I'm not reading this situation wrong am I? All these hints you're giving me?"

"Hmm?" Achilles asked, making his face the picture of innocence. Either Patroclus was about to do something amazing or run off angry.

He turned out to go down the amazing path. With another gulp he tipped Achilles jaw up and kissed him. It was amazing. Like two souls joining back into one after a lifetime apart. When they parted he felt much like he had the first time he had left Patroclus. Like everything good was gone.

So he urged Patroclus to "Do that again." which he did.

They spent either hours or minutes just kissing each other. A couple of catcalls were the reason they eventually broke apart. Patroclus pulled back quickly, another blush creeping up his neck. Achilles didn't like the way he hunched in on himself. Nor the way he was standing so far away from Achilles it looked like they weren't here together.

It only happened for a few minutes. After that, Patroclus seemed to come back to himself. His eyes going back to their soft brown and taking his hand.

"We should get some sweets," Patroclus proposed. "Make sneaking out that much more better for you."

Achilles laughed, if Patroclus was going to put what happened behind them then so was he. He could work on getting him more open in the future.

They held hands all the way through the pick and mix. Patroclus laughed every time Achilles narrated the death of his gummy worms, prompting more dramatic gummy deaths as a result.

They were rounding the corner to find something fun to do when Achilles saw it. Well, smelled it. A cross between rotting meat and a forest. Monster.

He found who it was. The woman was watching him with an unnerving intensity. She was old, with a hooked nose and robes that looked like wings.

He needed to get away. He needed to get Patroclus to safety.

Hand on his spear he towed Patroclus out. Maybe if he got them to open ground not many people would get hurt.

The woman was hot on their tail. For someone so old she sure could move fast. As she did Achilles tried to make out anything else that might give away what she was. Ordinarily they tried to blend in with modern day things. Sure, if Achilles tried, he could look through the mist, but there wasn't time. Not with Patroclus.

"What's going on?" Patroclus asked, concern in his voice. Weirdly enough he didn't try and pull out of Achilles' hold.

"We need to leave," Achilles just said.

"Any reason why?"

He hurried them out faster.

They reached outside just before the woman could cut them off. He thanked his immortal blood for that feat. But the woman was still close behind them. As soon as they stopped, she started circling them.

Achilles turned to Patroclus, "How are you getting home? Bus?"

"Yes," He said, still looking confused.

"Good," Achilles pushed him to the nearest bus stop.

Patroclus firmly planted his feet, stopping them in their tracks. "What's going on?" Awareness came over him, "Has someone told on you?"

"Yes."

Achilles whipped around. It wasn't him that had spoken but Odysseus. Somehow, his friend had tracked them down and was staring at the old woman hunting them.

Acknowledging Patroclus with a little nod he continued, "We need to get going. So if you can say goodbye..."

Patroclus nodded, saying, "You should have just said." What followed was another brilliant kiss. "I'll put you on loudspeaker tonight."

Achilles was confused, still reeling from Patroclus' lips before he remembered he was playing his lyre tonight. He waved Patroclus off. Watching as he rounded the corner and took everything good with him.

Out of sight and Achilles whipped out his gold headband. A short, practised flick and his spear was seating comfortably in his hand.

The woman, seeing the thing, hissed. Her face transformed over her gaping mouth. The nose elongating into a beak, the only birdlike thing on the creature's face. The face of the woman was still there as the rest of her contorted forwards. Her cardigan turning to wings and feet to claws that scratched the ground she was standing.

They only had the warning of a screech before the thing hurled itself at them.

They went into practised action immediately. Odysseus went low, crouching along as his sword jabbed up. He got a few good hits in before the monster hit him in the face. Odysseus down Achilles took his chance. Sneaking up behind it, he swiped the legs out from the thing before getting it with one good thrust in its head.

The thing dissolved into dust, blowing on to Odysseus who was gathering himself together.

"We should get going," He said. "Those things hunt in packs. No doubt the others are sniffing us out as we speak."

In agreement, they sprinted a good three blocks away before catching their bus.

Chiron wasn't waiting for them when they got back. Achilles was grateful for that. He was having the best day after all, he didn't need the centaur spoiling it by lecturing him on safety. He was invulnerable, he should be able to do stupid things like this without thinking about safety.

They slipped in for dinner. Odysseus blending perfectly with the rest of his siblings. All of them, he was sure, had cover stories sorted for him.

He heard some of them said afterwards. Apparently Odysseus was playing in the forest all day. Setting traps for next Friday's capture the flag. It had enough people wary of him, not asking anything further. They had all learned their lesson, after all, last Friday. Odysseus had managed to eliminate the other team and steal the flag in almost record time.

If only they knew he wasn't planning on playing this week.

"So where were you all day?" Achilles asked at the sing along.

Odysseus tapped his nose. "You just concentrate on your performance."

He didn't bother questioning again.


	2. Chapter 2

"We need to get out again," Achilles demanded.

Odysseus didn't even look surprised. They were watching the Zelos cabin practice their sword skills. Already three of them had begged a break as the older, and more experienced campers, took them down. Really, the two of them should have been attending to their own tasks.

While they hadn't been caught yesterday, Chiron suspected them of doing something. He had been stalking them all day. What made matters worse was the Heracles size bow he held out threateningly out towards them whenever he saw them together. He had to take a break from his stalking recently however, as on of the younger campers over at the shooting range had caught a wayward satyr in the shoulder.

"Just name the day," Odysseus said.

Achilles wanted to say tomorrow. Hades, he wanted to say now.

Last night had been one of the best times of his life. Second to meeting Patroclus. Third to the kiss he had gotten yesterday. Nevertheless it was awesome. He had put his phone on loudspeaker, tuning his lyre to Patroclus telling him about the rest of his day.

After waving Achilles off, he had went home to discover his mother had managed to persuade his father to buy the piano.

"So now I have four lessons a week, and a recital in a month. I'm not sure my father actually knows how long it takes to learn to play," Patroclus mused.

Achilles choked out a chuckle. He didn't want to say anything bad after all. But a recital in a month- even the Apollo kids would suffer under that much pressure.

"I stand by what I said. You're probably better at string than piano." He strummed himself as if his lyre was agreeing. "Also if you did switch, I could give you private lessons."

A little huff came through the phone. "I still stand by what I said. I'm not good at any."

When he had finished tuning, Achilles played for him. It was nerve wrecking. Never before had he wanted someone's approval so badly. It made him aware of every note he strummed, and ever mistake he made.

"I swear, I'm not usually that bad," He excused when he was done.

There was silence on Patroclus' end. Achilles wondered if he had drove him to sleep. Or worse, he was so bad that Patroclus was just pretending to listen. He was probably on his computer, or reading to pass the time until Achilles was done.

Then, "Wow."

That one word pushed any doubt Achilles had out of his head. Really he should have known better. Patroclus had been nothing but genuine since they met.

"You like it?"

More silence, then, "Can you play again?"

It was late when Patroclus said he would have to listen to him in person. Something Achilles wanted something more. Now he just had to think of a good day.

Tomorrow was too soon. The day after maybe?

"I'll tell you," Achilles ended up saying.

Odysseus rolled his eyes. Something in that gesture had Achilles wondering what was in it for him. Odysseus was definitely up to something.

They spent the rest of the day placing bets on which camper would bow out next.

Chiron was still keeping an eye on them at the feast that night. He even had satyrs seat themselves next to them. Asking them questions and trying to find out what it was they were up to.

Really, Achilles thought, he should be more concerned with the newest Ares camper. A small boy, he was still trying to fight his way into his siblings approval. Knowing some of the tasks the elders liked to make them do for fun, not to mention the fact he had already started three fights with other campers. In comparison to him, Achilles and Odysseus' little plots weren't really a top priority.

"... planning on playing?" The satyr asked.

Achilles wondered if it was rude to ask his name again. He really should get better at learning them. "No. Maybe next week."

He could practically see the mental list the satyr was ticking off. No doubt the next line of questioning would be down the Aphrodite kids route. He spent most of his time trying to get on their good side. Mostly because he liked the fawning they did whenever he played for them. The other reason was because they often liked to corner him and dress him up. Something about his 'pretty face' looking great in this or that. He was ashamed to admit he let them put make-up on him once. Also a dress. But in his defence he was thirteen and had just arrived at Camp Half Blood.

The satyr wasn't deterred when Achilles didn't give him any hints about his plans. No doubt Chiron was much scarier than an invulnerable half blood.

Sometime in the night Odysseus, the sneaky bastard, somehow ended up pawning off his own satyr with Achilles.

Around the camp fire he let all his annoyance at the situation show to the lounging idiot across from him. The lounging idiot who was nodding in the direction of the trees. So he wanted a secret meeting did he? Achilles nodded to the two satyrs next to him. If he wanted to talk, he'd have to get these two away.

Not that it stopped Odysseus. He ended up cornering Achilles before lights out. Tuning his lyre, he was expecting the shadow that crawled through his window. Achilles had to spare a laugh at the Scooby-Doo pyjamas before making room on his bed.

"We need to go tomorrow," Odysseus opened with. There was an urgent note in his voice.

"Why? What are you doing?" He was quite sick of this secrecy. But them his thoughts turned back to Patroclus. If Odysseus wanted to escape, who was he to question it. But- "Besides it's too soon. Chiron's just waiting for us to slip up."

Odysseus shrugged. "Then we'll use a different route and throw him off. It's not hard."

"If it's not hard then why don't you go on your own?"

Another thing that had been bothering him about his friends eagerness to get out. Odysseus was far from helpless. Quick with his brain and sword, he could out think a problem before it even presented itself. He had been at camp a whole year before Achilles came. He was even the one who taught Achilles how to use a sword in the first place.

Yet Odysseus still insisted that, "You need to come. Two is always better than one."

Achilles decided to use on of Odysseus' own tactics on him when his friend revealed nothing more. He needed at least some incentive for this risk. "Fine, I'll go with you. But only if you tell me what it is you're doing. If you're in trouble it's better I know now than finding out when we leave this place."

"Alright," He agreed, a bit too easily. "The week before camp I took a tour at this college. I met a girl there. It's her I agreed to meet with tomorrow."

"Is that where you were last time?" Achilles asked. For some reason it was hard to imagine his friend with someone. He was sly, cynical and loved calling anyone who wasn't himself an idiot. If a girl found him interesting she must be something special.

Odysseus hummed, "Sort of," leaving it at that.

Somehow, the idea that he wasn't the only one pining seemed to make escaping a richer cause. It wasn't just about his own happiness anymore. Also, since Odysseus wasn't in any trouble, there seemed to be no reason why he shouldn't go along with his friend's plans. It meant he got to see Patroclus- and sooner than he would have planned as well had it been up to him.

So, after some deliberation, Achilles agreed to going out tomorrow.

Patroclus was still up when he called. Thankfully, he was all for meeting up, even proposing where. With his new piano schedule he didn't have much free time. So Achilles was going to go to him in his busy time and help make his piano schedule fun.

As soon as the phone beeped off Achilles was racing out of his cabin and knocking on Apollo's. He needed piano lessons, and quick.

None of them were happy to be woken up. But one girl, sensing his need and good cause, decided he was worth sleeping through the day. She took him to the Amphitheatre, a place that was impossible to see so late at night. Their playing was slow and tense, both of them on guard for the cleaning harpies and Chiron every few seconds. Nevertheless he learned the basics. The scales, a quick tune. Enough to get him some kissing points from Patroclus.

It seemed he wasn't the only one who had a late night. When they met up as soon as they were on the bus Odysseus nodded off, telling him to wake him when they got there. Achilles was tempted to nod off himself. But past experience had taught him that wasn't a good idea. Two years ago came to mind. The two of them had decided to go camping. Odysseus had came over to his, sleeping bag and marshmallows in hand. A full weekend ahead, they had set off into the trees behind Achilles house. Everything had been find until they went to sleep. If Achilles wasn't invulnerable he would have lost a leg to the Lycan gnawing on it.

When they were out together now, they took it in turns to sleep. If they had to at all.

They got to the mall at ten. Luckily Achilles had the forethought to wake Odysseus two stops beforehand. The teen slept like the dead, sometimes it was near impossible to wake him.

Off, and the two of them stood around awkwardly for a few minutes.

"Patroclus' house is," He waved his hand in some direction, his meaning clear. It wasn't simply a walk that would separate them.

A sigh, and Odysseus pulled a map out of his pocket. "Okay, here's the plan. I looked up Patroclus' house. It's twenty minutes by foot from here and ten by bus. Seven, if you get the quatre past one. If you get in any trouble, don't wait for the next bus. There's a line of trees, here," He pointed out to the circled part of the map. "Run there and dispose of it as quick as possible. If there's more than one, and you think you might need my help, pick up the phone and dial this number," A scrap of paper was thrust at him, along with more instructions about what to do in a crisis. Achilles had time to wonder how long Odysseus spent planning this. Also how he got Patroclus' address. Achilles hadn't even known it until last night.

Finally the list was complete, and Odysseus waved him goodbye.

"Wait," Achilles called. "What if you're in trouble?"

Odysseus just waved his concerns away. Running around the corner before Achilles could question him again.

Achilles mulled over the fact that Odysseus was right about the bus taking seven minutes as he knocked on Patroclu's door.

He didn't live in an immodest house. Far from it. It looked like something Gatsby would live in- the book he had read because Odysseus said it was good for his soul. The outside was pure white. People were actually cleaning it to keep it that colour as Achilles walked up. There were Greek columns guarding the door, with statues of Venus and Cupid littering the walk up. He felt like he was being judged by the Goddess of love the whole time he stood outside. He hoped Patroclus would answer soon.

The longer he stood outside, the longer he was convinced one of those statues were Aphrodite in disguise.

Luckily for him the door opened before he could go over and investigate one.

Patroclus was rich enough for servants. One of whom took his coat and led him up to the music room. Well, room would be more of an apt description. Patroclus hadn't been joking about his father disliking music. In the entirety of the room there was just the piano and a few sheets of music.

None of that mattered however, because Patroclus made the room look like it was filled with a thousand harps. His lyre thrummed in his hand, itching to be played.

Patroclus was making an attempt at playing as his music tutor watched on with frustrated eyes. The girl noticed him standing there and called for a break. Patroclus took it with a sigh of relief.

"You sound..." Achilles had wanted to open with something good. But he lost what it was when he caught sight of what Patroclus was actually trying to play. "This is far too advanced for you."

Patroclus sighed, "I know."

"I can't even play this on my lyre."

The whole thing looked like someone had puked symbols and lines on a sheet of paper. Of course this could always be his dyslexia talking.

"Is that it then?" Patroclus asked, an eager look on his face as he stroked down Achilles arm.

He held the lyre up for inspection. "Yep. Here, you can have a go if you like."

Patroclus held it gingerly. The strings sang under his fingers briefly as he handed it back. "I think I'll just leave it to you. But if you have any pointers for the piano I'm all ears."

Achilles didn't. Not really. But he shared what little he had learned about pianos last night with him. They were laughing like idiots by the time Patroclus' tutor came back up. Singing the scales had soon turned to the two of them trying to screech in tune loudest.

"Fun times over," she announced, scooting Achilles off the stool. "Either sit quietly or find another room to play in."

Achilles elected to sitting quietly. He didn't need to be talking to Patroclus to enjoy being with him. Besides. Now he wasn't in a dimly lit movie theatre, or trying not to be too creepy, he could stare all he liked and pretended he was listening to the music.

Patroclus really was adorable. If he got better at the piano he could duet with Achilles. He could teach him his song! That in mind, he stole a sheet of paper and interrupted once to ask for a pen. He barely noticed the hour pass as he wrote and composed for Patroclus' piano. He had to change some of the notes, and harmonize in parts. When he was finished, it looked worse than the scribbles Patroclus was trying to play. With a couple of re-drafts however, he was sure it would be amazing.

The tutor packed her things away as the clock chimed. She was to return the next day, yet still gave out homework, like Patroclus had nothing better to do with his time.

When she was gone Patroclus wasted no time in trying to decipher Achilles sheet music.

"I thought you were drawing," he said, blushing as he handed it back.

Achilles snorted, "If only." If he could draw, he'd have at least fifty canvases in his cabin dedicated to Patroclus by now. "But it is for you. As soon as I work it out."

"Don't tell me you've got homework for me too."

Achilles laughed. One, because it was stupid, and a bit sad how true that statement was. Also because Patroclus had told a joke. He was funny on top of being amazing.

"I do. But don't worry, I'll help you with it," Achilles grinned.

They retired to Patroclus' room after saying goodbye to the piano. Like the rest of the house it was lavish and made to intimidate. The only comfort Achilles saw was the small corner Patroclus' books lived. He trailed the spines, not being able to make out what they were, but liking their colours. There were other things there anyway that he could make out, and looked them over too. The little skull that opened up to show a brain and other medical things a head had. A few comic books Achilles remembered because his foster brothers had them. What really caught his eye was the little Disney toy Pegasus.

"You like Hercules," Achilles grinned, picking up the horse.

That was definitely a blush on Patroclus' face, Achilles noted. He didn't move to take the toy off him however, so Achilles brought it over to the bed with him. At least the bed was soft. That's all it was. There were no funny sheets or favourite colours, just plain white and two simple pillows at the head. Still, it was larger than his camp bed, so Achilles spent a good few minutes trying not to drift off.

"So... who's your favourite hero? You know Hercales, well Disney Hercules, and now you know Achilles."

Patroclus shrugged. "I never really did classics, I told you. I can't really say which one's my favourite. So why don't you tell me yours and I'll pretend to know what you're talking about."

Another joke. Achilles was being spoiled today.

"Or, you could just say me and we can kiss the rest of the afternoon?" Achilles proposed.

A small smile came onto Patroclus' face, "I really wanted to hear you play."

"Okay," Achilles said, plan forming. "I'll play for you. But every note I get right is a minute of kissing."

He was more than surprised when Patroclus cemented their agreement with a freebie.

Spurred on Achilles took up his lyre and did the best performance of his life. He even sang. Making up words that seemed natural to the tune he had learned the other day.

As soon as he was finished, Patroclus moved the lyre carefully off the bed. Gone and Achilles was pinned down to the sheets with Patroclus ravishing him like Zeus and one of his mistresses.

Achilles was glad there was at least one thing Patroclus took charge of. He felt like he was the most loved thing in the world. Helped along by the little compliments Patroclus slipped in as he hiked his shirt up.

"Like the sun," He murmured into Achilles stomach.

He felt like he could glow too if Patroclus never stopped touching him.

The bed creaked slightly as Patroclus trapped his arms in his shirt. Held over his head, he was at Patroclus' mercy. His to do with whatever he wanted. Whatever he wanted was more compliments as he learnt all he could from Achilles skin. If this was an interrogation, Achilles thought, this could be the one man that probably would be able to get him to talk.

Another creak as the bed moved beneath them. Unbeknownst to them the noise of the bed called a servant to check on them. They heard the startled gasp, and it was like the mall all over again. Patroclus moved like had been zapped with one of Zeus' lightning bolts. Standing, distraught and chasing after the servant that had caught them.

Achilles knew his stomach wasn't going to get any more attention today, and righted himself as best he could. Patroclus didn't come back for a good ten minutes. Enough time for Achilles to grow worried and bored sitting still. Bored enough to even try and decipher Patroclus' books when he came in.

He had the decency the bring ice cream. Topped with sprinkles and chocolate, it was hard for Achilles to be too angry with him.

They sat in silence eating, until, "Your friend's out front."

It took a few seconds to realize who Patroclus meant. As soon as he did he was darting to the nearest window. Sure enough Odysseus was in Patroclus' front garden. He was peering into a Cupid's eyes and, as if sensing his presence, looked up to wave at him.

Sighing, Achilles took himself back to Patroclus to say goodbye.

"I'll walk you out," He said.

So their little interruption before hadn't put him off. Interesting. Achilles let him. He even tried to get his hand held on the way down, to which Patroclus indulged him in. Another interesting bit to note.

At the front door he got a kiss. A rather good one too.

"I'll see you soon?" Achilles asked when they parted.

Patroclus nodded. "Ring me sooner though?"

"Definitely."

Patroclus didn't go inside, instead he watched as Achilles retrieved Odysseus from vandalising his garden.

"You two are sickening," Odysseus greeted with, more venom in his voice than usual.

Achilles didn't mind. Not when Patroclus was still watching them. He gave him a little wave as Odysseus dragged him down the street.

"What happened?" Achilles eventually asked as they rode the bus back to camp.

There was obviously something wrong. Odysseus had barely spoken to him, merely tolerated him as he came down from his Patroclus high.

"Nothing." Odysseus bit out.

"It doesn't sound like nothing."

"Well it is nothing." He deflated in his seat, "She wasn't there. This is the second time she's done this."

Two days ago came to mind. Now that he thought about it, Odysseus wasn't meant to meet him for another half hour.

"Maybe she forgot," Achilles tried.

Odysseus didn't seem soothed by this. Huffing, he sank back in his seat gazing out the window.

His mood didn't improve over the next few days. No matter how many times Achilles let him beat him into the dirt, or cause mischief among the other campers, he remained in his slump.

The two of them were planting traps outside the Nike cabin when Chiron asked for a word. Achilles couldn't guess what about. It had been two weeks since they last sneaked out. Achilles was suffering from Patroclus withdrawal, but didn't want to go out with Odysseus in such a state. Not to mention Patroclus' schedule was becoming so ridiculous he warned Achilles away from visiting for a while. He even fell asleep on the phone the other night. A fun experience for Achilles since he heard his name slip out of Patroclus' dream slack mouth. So really, there was no reason Chiron should want to talk to them. Or Odysseus alone, as he sent Achilles off.

He couldn't be mad about the traps, Achilles listed off. They had just set them. Not to mention the Nike cabin had started this little fight by desecrating their cabins with paint.

Nothing else came to mind, until he turned to the surf. Of course, his mother wanted him.

This wasn't the first time Chiron had tried to separate them to send him to the surf. He supposed it was a good tactic as he skipped down the sand. His mother didn't like Odysseus, and when he was alone he almost always went to the sea. It helped him think.

"Mother," He greeted, plastering on his most welcoming smile.

She didn't look pleased with him. Her skin was pale and lips drawn back in a half smile as she looked him over.

"You're looking well," She complimented.

"All thanks to you." Thanks to her, he had no scars or cuts to speak of. His skin was as smooth as it had been when he was a baby. He was still worried that he wasn't going to be able to grow a beard because of this fact.

Her cold eyes raked him again. A hum, like a horde of bees, escaped her throat. "There's something different."

Achilles didn't think there was anything different. He looked the same as he had done yesterday. The same messy curls and tattered clothes. Patroclus came to mind. Could his mother tell? Deciding there was no use keeping it from her he decided to let her know.

"Aphrodite's finally blessed me. His name's Patroclus and-"

he didn't know what he had said. All the warning he had was her eyes going black like a seals, before he was sitting, soaked, in the surf.

"Mother?"

No word of goodbye had been said to him, she just left. It was like when he finally told her about Odysseus but worse. At least then she had actually forbade him before leaving. Now he was left wondering what he had done to upset her. Maybe it was the idea that another goddess was meddling with his life. Aphrodite wasn't exactly a nice goddess either. Sure, she was the goddess of love. But love was almost always at the route of every problem. The proof of that was left for him when he trudged back to his cabin to dry off.

In the ten minutes it had taken him to almost drown, Odysseus had cheered up. More than that, he had his familiar cunning look back on his brow. Achilles almost wept for the Odysseus. At least that one hadn't had wild ideas, sure to get them in trouble.

"Get your coat Pelides, we're going on an adventure," He said, wasting no time in letting Achilles dry off to drag him back into the waning sun.

Adventure was two bus rides into New York City. It was dark when they got there. Eerie. Achilles didn't often make the trip to New York. For one, it was too big. For another there were more monsters living here than at Long Island.

Odysseus was a native however, and knew which stops to avoid. At night, New York was a strange mix of light and shadow. At one point they were being blinded by neon signs and street lights. The next they were trailing down a street so dark Achilles was tempted to hold Odysseus' hand so he wouldn't lose him. The worst part of their journey was coming up.

"No," Achilles protested, digging his heels into the concrete.

"It's four stops," Odysseus tried, dragging him down the steps to the subway.

"Four stops in a confined, underground space where monsters can pick us off more easily."

Odysseus laughed, "You're invulnerable. Why are you so worried?"

"Because monsters are monsters. They don't need to chew to eat me." He'd hoped he had won. He hadn't.

The subway was abominable. It being so late they managed to get a seat each. As did the drunkards and other shifty people that made up New York's night life. Odysseus didn't seem that worried. The teen had probably rode the subway as one of these drunkards himself. Now he was watching Achilles like he was the best show he had ever seen. He probably was as well with the way he jumped at everyone that came on their carriage.

The fourth stop seemed to be years away. When they got there Odysseus didn't waste time laughing more at his unease, and dragged him through more streets. These ones were at least well lit. The apartments they passed grew more lavish the further along they went until they stopped altogether. Instead, a large building took precedence.

"If we're breaking and entering I should warn you, my dad doesn't want me committing another felony until I'm eighteen."

"Meaning?" Odysseus snorted.

"Meaning you'd better have a plan because I'm not going to be caught." Even as he said it he knew Odysseus had a plan. He'd probably been cooking it up on the way over.

The campus had three dorms. One on the north side, and the other two veering off the east and west. Odysseus knew where he was going. Pulling Achilles hood up, he tagged the two of them onto the end of a group heading to the north dorms. They were already stumbling as they neared the campus doors, and Achilles heard talk of another party they were going to. It was amazing how they didn't notice them. In fact, they even held the door open so they could slip in with them.

From there it was a staggering three flights of stairs until Odysseus was squinting at the doors.

"Is that a 59 or 95 to you?"

Achilles didn't even bother to try. This whole trip was draining him, and to read on top of that was something he wasn't going to attempt.

They went a few more doors down before Odysseus stopped and squinted again.

"Best keep your hood up," he warned.

Achilles just hoped they had the right door..

He was rather shocked, and a little bit in awe, at how easily Odysseus picked the lock. The dorm itself wasn't anything special. A bunk bed, with clothes strewn everywhere, and a desk similarly cluttered in the corner.

"What are you looking for?" Achilles asked. He knew where they were. This was the girl who'd blown Odysseus off twice. He'd known ever since he realized what university she probably went to. Yet they hadn't even knocked. Odysseus had know she'd be out, which meant he wanted something else from her.

His friend of course didn't answer him. An ordered, "Keep an eye out," was called his way and nothing more, as Odysseus carefully picked his way through her things.

Achilles kept an eye out. He watched as party goers waved and laughed down the corridors. Some of them stopped. No doubt some part in their alcohol hazed mind they realized they had never seen him before. More, that he was in one of their classmates' or friends' room. But they passed him all the same.

"What does she look like?" he remembered to ask. It was all good looking out. But if he didn't know who to look out for it was pointless.

"Gorgeous," Odysseus said.

Achilles watched as his friend caught himself. His cheeks flamed as he coughed back his embarrassment and rolled off a vague description of her. Achilles had to stifle a laugh when Odysseus said, "She's like an Aphrodite kid without the clog of make-up."

They went back to their respective jobs.

"I should be talking with Patroclus," Achilles lamented a few minutes later. Breaking and entering wasn't as fun as he first thought.

"He's probably fast asleep. Besides, I bet there's nothing between yesterday and now that can't wait another day," Odysseus said.

Achilles grumbled. Patroclus could have done lots of things that could be interesting today. He might have finally cracked his piano piece. Or helped his mother with another ornament piece. Apparently the Cupid and Venus statues were home made. His mother had a bit of a talent for it. If it was just Cupid or Venus she was sculpting.

"Otherwise they don't turn out so great," Patroclus had said, excusing it like it was something to be ashamed of. Achilles thought it was kind of cool. No doubt Aphrodite and Eros were preening at the attention.

He was snapped out of his musings as Odysseus said, "Aha!"

Achilles felt his heart stop. "Is that?"

"Yep."

The reason for Odysseus' bad mood made more sense now. In his hand was what looked like an ordinary ring. But Achilles had seen the impressive shield it became. Circular and bronze with a detailed imprint of the Trojan horse in its centre. Odysseus' favourite trick. First because his mother had given it to him when he became a man. Second because it had a hidden switch that electrified the whole thing. Invulnerable as he was, Achilles could still feel the power it radiated when he knocked against it in battle. To think someone had stole it from him was scary.

"Right, let's get out of here," he rushed, almost sprinting himself as he got hold of Achilles again.

They made sure the door was locked, another impressive skill he would have to get Odysseus to teach him, before they tried to escape. The stairs were more crowded now the party was in full swing. Twice Achilles had tripped over someone's feet or discarded drink. Once away from the stairwell they were home free. Or they would have been had someone not grabbed his hoodie.

There was a girl attached to the end. 'She's like an Aphrodite kid without the clog of make-up' came to mind. He supposed he could see how Odysseus believed that. She was beautiful, with olive skin and brown hair that shone in the dimly lit entrance hall. There was also a keen intelligence on her, most noticeable in her eyes.

She cast them over him now before turning to Odysseus. Her hand outstretched in his direction, "I believe you have something of mine."

Odysseus betrayed nothing.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he shrugged. "I'm just here to pick up my friend. Now if you'd kindly unhand him."

Achilles felt the girl tighten her hold. Still she didn't retract her hand. Achilles felt like he was in the midst of the cold war. Neither side backing down or showing fear while the rest of the world held their breath. Something told him that this girl wasn't a love interest. Not only because she had stolen from Odysseus.

"Give back my ring and I will."

"Who says I have it? Or that it's yours to begin with?"

Achilles saw Odysseus squint at his mistake, a minor tick that not many people would have picked up on. Achilles did because he knew him so well. The girl did because she was waiting for it.

"So you do have it." Her hand went down but Achilles still wasn't released.

Odysseus' face twisted, an odd display if emotion for someone who was always so tightly wound up. "It is mine. I had ever right to come and-"

"Break into my room."

"Only because you stole it!"

The hall quietened at his outburst. As if sensing this wasn't a conversation to be had outside, the girl invited them both back to her room. Odysseus, naturally, said no, which was how they found themselves standing outside the dorms at half three in the morning

Penelope, the girl, started things off by riling up Odysseus again.

"I didn't steal it," she said. "You dropped it, and by the law of finders keepers, it's mine."

"I didn't realize we were abiding by the law of three year olds," Odysseus spat. " As far as I'm concerned when you find something that's not yours you give it back. What's more, you actually attend the meet ups. Twice I waited for you."

She didn't look apologetic as she shrugged, "I didn't feel like giving it back then."

With narrowed eyes Odysseus looked over Penelope. For what, Achilles didn't know. He wasn't really keeping up with who was winning this argument.

"So you're giving it back now?"

She sighed, "Well I don't exactly have it now do I?"

Some arrogance seeped back into Odysseus as he puffed his chest up. "That's right. So if you'll excuse me I'll be on my way."

He tugged Achilles from Penelope's hold, the two of them walking away. Until she, once again, cut in front of them.

"Don't you think it's strange," she said. "That I didn't turn up?"

Odysseus hummed in consideration. "Considering your narcissistic streak, not really."

She cut in front of them again as they tried to leave.

"But you broke in so easily. Someone as narcissistic as you think I am, wouldn't just leave their dorm in the hands of one lock."

"What's your point?" Odysseus demanded.

Achilles got there before Odysseus, a "Holy Aphrodite," escaping.

Penelope dropped it seconds later with a "It's not that far fetched to believe I planned for this."

A coy look, and Odysseus was the one with a death grip on Achilles hoodie. It loosened seconds later as Odysseus pushed him away. "Go play," he ordered.

Achilles nearly ran from the scene. Penelope was scary. Odysseus was scary. He didn't want to be anywhere near them for this next step in their lives. Either they were going to kill or... The other option was too unnerving to even think.

Odysseus caught up with him nearing ten to four. The two of them spent the walk to the subway in silence. Achilles because his worst fear had been realized, and Odysseus because he was, no doubt, reliving whatever Penelope had said to him.

The subway was quieter on the way back. Only three people were in the carriage with them. A couple doing what had to be considered indecent things and an old man.

Achilles only had eyes for his friend however. His friend who was absent-mindedly twiddling his ring. He'd changed the finger it sat on. People would think him married if they saw him now.

"She's scary," Achilles said.

"Yeah," Odysseus sighed.

They didn't have long to think about what just happened, since their stop came up. What followed was another shifty walk and bus ride back to Long Island.

Never before had Achilles been so glad to see the mall. He was back on familiar ground, and breathed easier for it. He didn't breathe easy for long. Tired as he was he didn't notice they weren't on the bus that would lead them back to camp until Odysseus was pulling him back off far too soon.

"Wha-"

"You may as well get something out of tonight," Odysseus said hiding them behind a pair of familiar bushes.

A shrewd pair of eyes belonging to a cupid watched them as they sneaked around the back of Patroclus' house.

"He'll be asleep," Achilles protested, despite his legs beginning the climb up to Patroclus' room.

"So gaze lovingly at him like a creepy vampire and be done with it," Odysseus suggested, keeping to the bushes. "I'll toss stones if someone's coming."

Locating Patroclus' room from the outside was harder than it looked. In the end he squeezed through the open bathroom window and located it from there.

Sure enough, Patroclus was asleep. He looked like a God, and Achilles had never been happier the actual Gods couldn't read his thoughts as he followed up with more amazing descriptions about Patroclus.

His limbs were everywhere, like they couldn't decide which position was most comfortable and decided to try all of them. His skin looked so soft in Artemis' glow. Achilles wondered if he would always be like this when he slept, then stopped that train of thought as he heard how creepy it sounded.

He didn't want to, but this might be his only chance for a while to see him. So Achilles crouched by the side of his bed and shook him awake. A cute little frown appeared as he saw Achilles. Luckily he didn't scream. Or even throw him out.

Merely asked, "How did you get in?"

"Bathroom window."

No screaming yet. A little nod but no screaming.

He sat up, Achilles following as he sat on Patroclus' lovely bed.

"How's camp?" Patroclus asked around a yawn.

"Good," Achilles said, more interested in listening to Patroclus than talking about himself right now. It was sometimes hard, especially of late, to get him to actually say what he felt. But Achilles was chipping away little by little. As he asked "How about you?" he got quite a good response.

Patroclus, tired, gave a detailed answer about his day. His mother did indeed want to make another statue. This one she wanted to make as a centrepiece for their dining room table. Patroclus, after his piano lessons, had spent the rest of his afternoon helping her decide whether it should be a Cupid or Venus.

"Cupid's are cuter, and a bit more appropriate I guess, " Patroclus said.

Achilles had to bite back a laugh. He remembered meeting the actual Eros on Olympus for his fifteenth. Sure Cupid was his Roman name, but Achilles couldn't imagine him being much different than the strikingly handsome man who lounged near naked next to his mother. Psyche was a lucky girl, was what had went through his head then, not how cute he looked.

"You should tell her I like them," Achilles said instead. "And if she wants, I'll pay her to make me one."

"Really?" Patroclus looked a bit shocked at that. No doubt he thought Achilles was just saying it to get on his parents good side.

"I told you Pa-tro-clus, I don't lie." He grinned at the happy sigh that left Patroclus' mouth. It made him want to kiss him, so he did.

It was over fairly quickly, with Patroclus, once again, sitting as far away as he could get. As he did, he drifted further into the moonlight. The silver lit up things he hadn't seen before. Like the fact Patroclus was shirtless. Or that he had a massive bruise on his collarbone. It looked like someone had burned it onto his skin. The outline of a hand was clear to see at any rate, and even the notion that Patroclus had been hurt sent him into a rage he had never felt before.

He was sure he had blacked out. The next thing he was aware of was Patroclus in front of him, his hands on his shoulders and backing him into a wall.

"It wasn't him," he was repeating. "It wasn't him Achilles. Please calm down."

His breathing was almost as laboured as Achilles, which was how he eventually calmed down. Patroclus didn't need to see him like this. So he stopped his murderous thoughts and let Patroclus guide him back to his room.

"It wasn't him," Patroclus said again when they were seated.

"Then who?" Achilles asked, his hand fitting along the bruise gently.

It was old. Yellowing in places, but overall hard to see on his dark skin. Patroclus didn't even flinch as Achilles hand tightened under his shrug.

"What?" Patroclus asked. "I can't understand you?"

Achilles heard himself speak Greek again. Calming further he remembered how to say "Who?" in English.

"This woman cornered me the other day. She said..." at this Patroclus' eyes widened. "You need to go."

"But-"

Patroclus was the frantic one this time as he pulled and pushed Achilles through his house. He managed to stop them as they got to the kitchen. Thankfully, whatever servants worked there during the day were at home now, so Achilles didn't have to worry about someone interrupting them.

"Patroclus, tell me who did this. What woman?"

"I don't know. But she said if I saw you again something bad would happen."

As if on cue Achilles heard a smash from somewhere in the house. Oh, he knew exactly who was behind this now. The hand print on Patroclus' shoulder, when he looked again, just proved it. He'd know those hands anywhere. They'd held him when he took his first steps into the surf. Cuddled him when he asked why all these monsters wanted to kill him. Watched as they clenched in anger as she stormed off the last time he had seen her.

"You need to get upstairs," Achilles said, thinking fast. If it was a monster they would be after him not Patroclus. His mother would try fear before murder. This tactic was to get Patroclus to stay away. "Find a shower and drench yourself in bubble bath."

"Something bad is happening isn't it?"

"Yes," He stopped Patroclus from going just yet. He had a point to make after all. "But don't let this make your mind up. I love you, and I am not going to let anything bad happen to you. We're going to be happy," he said more to himself, before giving himself one last kiss from Patroclus and running outside.

Odysseus was drawing a moustache on a Venus when he found him. Achilles had time to hope that Aphrodite was in a generous mood as he grabbed his friend and brought him up to speed.

"This is why I like my mother. She' distant and doesn't care what I do, so long as I don't disrespect her," he chirped rubbing his ring and locating his sword.

Weapons out and they lay in wait for the monster. Only it was rather different to what they would have imagined.

"Penelope," Odysseus breathed, his sword dropping.

Achilles looked again. He didn't see Penelope. He did see a pretty girl. One he vaguely remembered from camp. The fact Odysseus saw someone different told that this wasn't an ordinary girl.

"Monster," he reminded Odysseus.

His friend nodded, his eyes clearing and shield lifting. "Arai then. We'd be smart not to kill it. They specialise in curses. So if anyone's ever wished something bad happen to you, it will if she catches us."

"We'd better get a head start then."

Pretty as she was she was also fast like all monsters. Achilles had no doubt on his own he could loose her by sheer speed alone. Luckily it didn't come to that. Odysseus was always one step ahead.

Leading them into the trees he ran them straight to a stream. Smart, just like he told Patroclus to he was trying to erase their scents. The Arai was still on their trail however and had eyes as well as a nose. So Odysseus took them into the trees. Her sandals slowed her down. But at Camp Half Blood they had been trained to climb in anything. Achilles recalled the high heels he had been forced into one time, by Odysseus no less.

They ran and jumped as fast as they could until they ran out of trees. The Arai was still busy trying not to get trapped in the branches as they caught the first bus that came their way.

They ended up spending another hour than usual on the bus back, but they got to camp in the end. As soon as they did Achilles darted for his phone. He needed to make sure Patroclus was alright. It turned out Patroclus was just as concerned but about Achilles as he picked up on the first ring.

"She won't do that again," he said, too wired to sleep. It was nearing six anyway. The first campers would be waking any minute. "Don't throw away what we have."

"I won't," came Patroclus' surprising reply.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be fighting me on this,."

An amused huff crackled through, "Well you said you do not lie. It will be hard to believe anything you say if I doubt you now." Achilles was two seconds away from bursting into song at those words. "Especially after you said you loved me."

"Oh?" He'd forgot he said that.

"I know it's soon, but I do too. I love you."

Achilles would fight the whole world so long as Patroclus said that again.


	3. Chapter 3

"Tell her to go away," Achilles said.

He was sulking on his bed. It had been almost two weeks since he had last seen Patroclus, and even longer since he had seen his mother. The day after the Arai had attacked he had went down to the surf and confronted her.

The worst thing was she didn't even try to deny it was her. The defence she gave was that she had done it for him. She didn't want mistakes from the past to repeat themselves now.

Whatever that meant.

It didn't matter in the long run. He was mad. She was mad, and neither of them were about to back down to the other. Odysseus told him later that he probably went a bit far with his threats. Achilles thought he needed too in order for her to listen.

"- get anything from me! No sacrifices. No acknowledgement. If you try to talk to me, or get someone to trick me into coming here I'll ignore you. Until you apologise, you're nothing to me."

She had sank back into the surf with spiteful eyes. She probably blamed Patroclus for this. For driving a wedge between them. He didn't care. So long as she refused to apologise her thoughts meant nothing to him.

His defiance worked to a point. The next time he had seen Patroclus there had been no monster. Patroclus had been on edge the whole time he was over, which made his decision stronger. He was doing the right thing. She wasn't going to scare Patroclus off.

The thought of his mother, thankfully, didn't plague his whole trip there. He managed to persuade Patroclus that there was nothing coming to harm him around the third hour he was there. His shoulders only slightly relaxed as they retired to his room. The movie did the rest.

Another boring documentary about Wall Street that Patroclus probably found amazing. He tried to pay attention, really he did. For about half an hour. After that Achilles eyes wandered. By the time Patroclus stopped paying attention to the movie he was tossing Patroclus' stuffed pegasus as high as he could for something to do with his hands.

Around an hour and Patroclus had abandoned the film altogether in favour of finding things for Achilles to juggle with. By the time Patroclus' parents came home he was throwing seven things in the air, enjoying the look of amazement that crossed Patroclus' eyes.

He was chased out not long after that. Patroclus' mother was more than happy to let Achilles stay for supper. A rough growl from the patriarch of the house had her changing her mind and Achilles scampering out.

Patroclus told him later that Achilles wasn't supposed to be allowed in the house unless there was someone there to watch over them.

His father wasn't happy when he saw Achilles that day. He thought that was maybe the reason Patroclus hadn't invited him around again. That, and the fact school was starting up again. His father was laying more pressure than ever on his shoulders. Piano lessons had been extended along with other tutors coming in. They specialised in training athletes. Patroclus said his father wanted him to join a sports team this year.

"Swimming is a good sport. Right?" he had asked.

Achilles had agreed because it was a good sport. Not to mention the thought of Patroclus in speedos had his mouth watering. But there was also that surge of annoyance that came up with every expectation Patroclus told him about. He was worn out, and didn't look to be getting a break any time soon. Achilles was scared about what might happen when school really did start. He had a feeling they would either never see each other or... break up.

That had him sulking for a few hours in the strawberry fields.

Things got worse when the little slip of paper slid under his door. As soon as it did his mother started calling on him. She always did this time of year, and must have thought her laying off the monsters was a sufficient enough apology. She was calling on him to make him stay, she had never liked the idea of him staying with his father. At first she had just appeared to him at the lake next to his house, but she didn't have to hide from his father anymore when he was here.

Fortunately for her, despite his anger at her, he was considering staying this year.

His father had sent him a letter that morning. The boy he wanted to foster was coming to live with them temporarily, which was good news. Odysseus had read him the rest about his father looking forward to him coming home. He was hoping Achilles would go out for track this year and bring back some medals. Then he went on to asking about Patroclus.

Surprisingly his father took it better than his mother. Even if Achilles couldn't see him face to face he knew his father was happy for him. It made his decision that much harder that he did.

He was supposed he could always leave and Patroclus could write to him. But it was a year, one full year before he would be back at camp. He didn't think he could survive that long without seeing Patroclus. He wouldn't even be able to use his phone. Or IM him. Staying was looking the better option the more he thought about it.

Then there were his demigod lessons. This was the only place he could hone his skills. His foster brothers couldn't measure up, and his father had told him off many times for playing too rough with them. This was the only place where he could find a challenge, and lots of people who were eager to take up that challenge too.

He decided to seek some guidance from Chiron. Unsurprisingly, the centaur wanted him to stay. Him and Odysseus. He didn't trust them out into the mortal world. Not after their last quest, and wanted to keep an eye on them.

Thinking about his last quest had Achilles wondering about the other side of his dilemma. If he stayed that would mean he was stuck. At least at home he could roam around. There was no way he would get a quest this year. There was no way he would be able to sneak out as often either. Chiron honed down on year rounders. He wanted to make sure they got a good education. Make sure they weren't left wanting when they were thrust into the mortal world. He would be under constant scrutiny attending diction, astronomy, business- ever since they found out Zeus frequented the stock market it had been added to their itinerary.

The question on whether he would leave or stay stuck with him for the next three days. His mother called for him every morning, and every time she did Achilles would give whoever it was the same answer- to leave.

The fourth day he needed to make up his mind.

"Up," Odysseus ordered, striding in and wrenching his covers off. "We're going sparring."

"Don't feel like it," Achilles said, curling up again.

"Well I do- and how many of these have you ate?"

Odysseus was holding one of many figs. They had started piling up after the first day of his decision making. He never should have planted that tree. Dionysus' influence meant it was ripe almost every time he went back to pick more. Which was often.

"I've got stuff to do," Achilles said, avoiding the question. He had stopped counting after one.

Odysseus sighed. The next thing he knew the bed was dipping and Odysseus was curling up next to him.

"I've got college if I go home," he said. "Penelope said she would try long distance... I think she would give it a few weeks before finding someone else. It's the logical thing to do."

"Steady there Mister Spock," Achilles tried, and got a small laugh out of his friend.

"All I'm saying is you're not the only one battling whether to stay or not."

Achilles huffed, turning to face his friend. Odysseus didn't look happy. But he didn't look miserable either.

"I take it you've already decided what you're doing?" It was the only conclusion he could draw.

His friend didn't disappoint. "I'm going. Even if I hadn't been banned from NYU I still would have went out of state. Less monsters that way. Besides, she's a girl. She's pretty. But this is my future we're talking about. If it's meant to be, she'll wait. If not, it was a nice summer romance."

"But I love him," Achilles said. He didn't want to make Patroclus wait. If he did, who knew what might happen.

"And you'd be safe here," Odysseus added on. "So stay. You can tell me all about your adventures with Chiron when I come back."

"But my dad..."

His letter was still staring at him from his wall. Its happy words were sitting right next to Patroclus' number.

"Wants you to be happy from the sounds of it," Odysseus said, confirming it by reading out the letter again. "Your brothers are all asking after you, and are eager to hear more about Patroclus. You should invite him around for a week. Or not. Whatever suits you."

His father was far too nice to him. That Odysseus and Achilles agreed on unanimously.

By the end of the day he had come to a decision. He was staying, and shoved the letter at Chiron before he changed his mind.

He called his father that night to tell him the news. He didn't deserve to know from a letter. It was a testament to his father's good nature that he wasn't even upset.

"Truthfully I'm rather relieved," he said. "Not about you. You know I love you son. But those monsters you attract are nasty. That scorpion thing nearly gouged your brothers' eyes out, and you know how hard it was to get him to keep quiet.

"I do."

It was one of Achilles meaner foster brothers that it had happened to. Not all of them looked at his dad like a God, and Ben was one of them. Sure, he was nice to his father's face. When he was gone however, he spent most of his time bad mouthing him and fighting with the other boys. Mostly Achilles.

He had instigated another one of his unfair wrestling matches with the youngest boy living with them. Achilles had went over to break it off, only to find himself face down in the mud. He had wrenched Ben's arm behind his back in retaliation when the monster showed up. The adrenalin or excess sweat must have alerted it to Achilles presence. Luckily it only slightly injured Ben, and the mist made sure he saw something that wasn't a monster. But that didn't stop him from wildly exaggerating what happened, which was why it was so hard for them to get him to shut up.

Achilles didn't blame his father for being relieved when he thought about it. That monster was only one in fourteen that had attacked him last year.

"We'll still write to each other," his father went on. "And now you have this phone I can hear you more often."

"I still wish I could IM you," Achilles sighed. Iris messaging was almost like a face to face conversation. Yet, again, the magical element meant that his father had banned it from use.

"I know." His father paused on the phone as Ben's voice called through. He probably heard his name and wondered who was bad mouthing him. The conversation only took a few minutes luckily, and then his father was back to announce the best thing Achilles had heard that day. "Tell you what. How about me and the boys drive up and see you for a week. Maybe near Christmas. You can introduce me to Patroclus."

"Yes!"

Which was how he spent the rest of the night planning what they would do.

Odysseus had to leave two days after that. His friend drew out his goodbye for as long as possible. He hugged one, then another sibling for a solid three minutes before moving on to a lengthy speech to them all. By the time Achilles turn came Odysseus' father was starting up Half Blood Hill to retrieve his son.

"College," Achilles said, not really believing his friend was so old.

"Better," He grinned, his eyebrows wagging. "Out of state college. Less monsters and more girls."

"You still have a girlfriend moron," Achilles reminded.

It was the wrong thing to say. He hadn't noticed it until then that Odysseus had probably been avoiding thinking about her. As soon as he did a dark look overcame him.

"Make sure to write," Achilles amended.

It worked slightly. Odysseus shoved his shoulder saying, "You have a phone now. I'll be ringing you nightly never mind writing. So make sure to leave a slot open between dinner and Patroclus for me."

"You're still a demigod," Achilles said, even as Odysseus was walking away. It was like his friend had completely forgot they were like homing beacons to monsters.

"Love you too," He called as his dad really did grab him and drag him to the car.

That night he did a stupid thing. Those who were staying at camp were too sombre for him, so he sneaked out. He knew it was stupid, purely based on the fact that Odysseus was gone. If he were here it would have been crafty. But he wasn't, so it was officially stupid.

Patroclus agreed with him when he opened his bedroom window to admit Achilles.

"It's almost midnight," he said, hurrying him inside. As soon as the window locked he turned back on him. "I thought camp ended today. Shouldn't you be at home?"

Achilles shrugged, taking Patroclus' room in again. He found that while Patroclus was a bit closed off, he could tell little things about his mood from his room. "My camp has year rounders. I decided to stay this year."

Patroclus' desk was a mess. There were books piled high with papers and sheet music built in here and there. The bed was rumpled since he had just got up to let Achilles in. The sheets looked new, and probably were. Still stark white, they contrasted brightly with the blue plume of Patroclus' pegasus. Achilles smiled at the image of Patroclus curled up with it.

"Oh."

That had him turning around. Patroclus was stunned. There was no other word for the wide eyed look he was giving Achilles.

"That's not a problem is it?" Achilles asked as a multitude of questions came to mind.

Did Patroclus even want him to stay?

Those thoughts went as he was swept into a hug.

Let go, and Achilles registered this on his favourite Patroclus looks. He was beaming from ear to ear. Any trace of weariness was gone, and replaced with an excitement he had never really seen on Patroclus before.

"Does this mean you'll be going to school?"

His shaking head only slightly dampened the beam directed at him. "We have tutors at camp. But it does mean I can still sneak out and see you."

The words had just left when he was swept into Patroclus' arms again, a thousand kisses pressing into his skin. He did his best to be worthy of them.

"Thought I was going to lose you," Patroclus murmured finally getting Achilles mouth.

"Eros I love you," Achilles said, not sure if he was exclaiming to any god in general or thanking the god of lust for bringing this creature to Achilles tonight.

As if in answer to his prayer Achilles felt a surge of want course through him. Patroclus seemed to have felt it too as he dragged Achilles onto his stark covers.

Their shirts were gone in less than a thought, pants and underwear not long after until it was just the two of them. It didn't feel awkward between them as Achilles made Patroclus sit back. It felt like this was how they had always meant to be. Like they had been this way a hundred times and should be a hundred more.

He dragged his hand down Patroclus' chest, admiring the subtle muscle as it writhed under his olive skin. In contrast Achilles looked like a pale imitation. Like a leech trying to suck up the sun. Well, Achilles thought, he would suck forever if it meant he got to taste Patroclus, and so dove back in as if to keep that promise.

His skin was salty under his mouth and hands commanding as they roved over Achilles back. One stroked down, cupping his ass before dropping slightly lower to pull his thigh up. The two of them collided, chest and hardness, until Achilles wasn't sure whether it was he or Patroclus making this sensation stronger.

It all came to a head when Patroclus grew bolder still. A short roll of his hips teased Achilles before the hand on his thigh dove between them. It took a surprisingly few strokes until Achilles was moaning Greek obscenities into Patroclus' neck, the man himself huffing in glee before joining Achilles in Elysium.

"I had a dream about you," Achilles said when he regained his breath. Taught over Patroclus' chest he thought there was no better place to be. "It's only just came back to me."

"I hope it was a good dream," Patroclus said.

Achilles had to smile at that. The earnest way he spoke was almost threatening any bad dream to even try and plague itself on Achilles. What he did to deserve this boy was beyond him. Yet another gift the Gods had thought to indulge him with.

"Yes, it was," He remembered to say. "We were in a stone chamber. Someone was telling us a story. But we were younger than we are now. I don't remember much more about the room, or the speaker. Really all I remember is you. Even in my dream you were otherworldly. Still, like a rock in tide. You were glowing from the fire, and I remember I wanted to move you, so I yanked your ankle. " he smirked at the remembrance. Patroclus' dream face had been so comical in its panic.

"I bet I didn't like that much," Patroclus noted, reading Achilles amusement correctly.

"You have amazing eyes," Achilles grinned, tracing a lid with his thumb. "Like an owls. They grow so big when you're panicked."

Patroclus huffed, before his brow drew in a slight frown. "Where are you from?"

Achilles mirrored his frown. "From?"

The frown lessened as Patroclus feared he had offended him. "I don't mean to be imposing. But sometimes I can't understand what you're saying. You sound American, yet even that accents sometimes. You don't have to answer, I was just curious."

"No. It's fine," he would have to start watching his words. "And I am. American that is."

"Oh." His brow furrowed further for a few seconds before clearing completely. "Well like I said, it doesn't matter."

After that they wiled away the hours talking about everything and nothing. It was like a barrier had been lifted again. What had been off limits before seemed appropriate in the shadows of Patroclus' room. Achilles told Patroclus he worried about him. Patroclus said he worried too. But that he didn't worry so much when Achilles called.

"It's like everything that troubles me leaves," He confessed, his dark eyes boring into Achilles. "What was important doesn't seem so when you speak."

"Like you're the most important thing in the world," Achilles finished. "I know, I feel so too."

He was rewarded another kiss for that. "I wish you could come to school with me. We could spend lunch together. I could watch you run."

"Run?" It seemed his father wasn't the only one who thought he was cut out for the track team.

He could feel the skin under him warm as Patroclus cleared his throat. "We wear red shorts at school. They would look good on you."

"Ah," Achilles chuckled. "Well I'm not against wearing them." His dream came to him again. "But only if you wear something for me."

"Fair enough," Patroclus agreed. He felt a hand creeping up his thigh again, "Care to tell me what?"

"Not yet," Achilles said. He hadn't decided what colour Patroclus would look good in.

Patroclus didn't press. Eventually Achilles fell asleep to the soothing rhythmic motion of Patroclus' hand stroking his skin.

Talking about his dream must have ignited something in his head since he found himself in the same humid heat as the last one. He dream self felt used to it. Hot as it was, he didn't feel like napping. He actually felt jittery, like he would if he had been watching one of Patroclus' documentaries.

As if summoned from thinking about him Patroclus appeared before him. He wasn't young like last time. He looked like he did now, around sixteen. He was wearing a simple white chiton, his legs free in the summer heat. His skin was darker, a healthy glow from so long in the sun. He was grinning at Achilles, a secretive smile that invited him to follow, so he did.

They spent a while walking paths only known to them. Patroclus laughed every time Achilles ran in front of him.

"It's not a race," He said.

"Of course it is," Achilles heard himself say. "I'm racing against time. Every second I'm not in front it's threatening to drown me."

Patroclus laughed again, and before Achilles could blink he was in front of him and running down another secret path. Achilles sprinted after him. It didn't take long to catch up, and when he did he made sure to tackle Patroclus to the grass.

They wrestled a while there. Even if it were a dream Achilles could feel the strength it took to hold back. Even more to let Patroclus win.

He was glad he did. On top, sweaty and panting, Patroclus was glorious. He sighed as lips ran down his neck. His chiton was roughly pulled up, a gentle breeze fluttering his stomach before a fire replaced it as Patroclus sucked down his chest. A surge of nervousness came upon him as he felt Patroclus' mouth on his hip.

The pair of them stilled, Patroclus' dark eyes looking up at him. _They hadn't done this before_ , Achilles heard in his head. _Was it demeaning?_

Patroclus looked to be having the same thoughts. The act itself was subservient. They had only seen servants and slaves perform it back home.

Patroclus was the first one to break the tense silence.

"I want to," He said, and chanced a quick kiss on Achilles cock. "Let me worship you."

His words almost had Achilles spilling.

Taking a deep breath, he played with Patroclus' hair. "I could never deny you anything."

Nervous laughter escaped both of them as Patroclus moved to take him in his mouth.

Achilles bolted upright as the scene before him dissolved into reality. It was early, the curtains were still drawn and letting in the beginnings of Apollo's rays. Hercules' pegasus was staring at him from his pillow, its soft fur tickling his hand.

He looked behind him to where Patroclus should have been, his absence at least telling him why he was awake. The bed was cold when he checked on it. He'd been gone a while. Achilles was tempted to go look for him. But naked, and in a house where servants would report back to Patroclus' father, it didn't seem like such a good idea.

He could always go back to sleep. Without Patroclus however, he doubted he would get back to his good dream. The thought of the chiton he was wearing in that flashed through his mind, perhaps he could get the Aphrodite cabin to make him one like it. Patroclus would look good in that.

He knew he should be going. Chiron was going to be roaming the camp for him. That's if he didn't already suspect him sneaking out, which he probably did.

There was lots of things he should have done. What he did do however, was take care of his morning erection. It was too good to pass up: last night still fresh in his mind, his dream on the edges of his thoughts and lying in Patroclus' heavenly soft bed. He couldn't help his hand straying down to stroke his cock. His other hand dove to the pillow next to him, bringing it near to help his imagination along- Patroclus had an amazing smell.

The door opened as he was nearing his end. Patroclus stopped, wide eyed in the doorway, before slamming it behind him.

"You're obscene," He muttered, stalking near. A predatory glint entered his gaze as he gently slapped Achilles hands away.

"Extremely," Achilles agreed, giving off a little moan to make his point. If he wasn't allowed to touch himself he may as well goad Patroclus into doing it. Anything to feel him again.

Patroclus didn't disappoint.

He ended up staying until lunch. The two of them sneaking around Patroclus' house, avoiding tutors and servants alike to spend time with each other.

He ended up being caught by Patroclus' father. Word had spread that his son was slacking off, and with an almost supernatural keenness, found them hiding amongst the cupids. Achilles was chased off with barely a look from the man. On this occasion however, he showed a little defiance, kissing Patroclus briefly before he ran. He knew it would come back to bite him later, but after the amazing night and morning he spent he couldn't help himself.

When he got back he didn't care that he had to sit through another one of Chiron's lectures. He didn't care that he was saddled with a satyr as a babysitter for the next week. He had just spent the night with the boy he loved and nothing could bring him down.

His high lasted him a whole week. Every time he felt bored he would think back to Patroclus. Every time he felt homesick he would phone Patroclus and listen about his day.

It was this that eventually broke through his happy week.

"It's just a bruise," Patroclus said.

It was late. The satyr was playing the pan pipes, he had taken the bunk opposite Achilles ever since Chiron told him to keep watch. Achilles didn't really mind. The satyr was nice, and it wasn't his fault he was stuck babysitting an errant demigod. Worse, a lovesick errant demigod. Almost every night this week he had to listen to Achilles talk love over the phone with Patroclus. Tonight was no different.

Until Patroclus told him about a fight he had at school.

"How big?"

The satyr looked up, narrowed eyes misinterpreting Achilles question. He just shook his head over, reassuring the satyr, whose name he would have to learn, that nothing dirty was going on.

"Not very," Patroclus said. Achilles noticed the pause beforehand. Patroclus was lying. Trying to spare his feelings. "What about you? How was your day?"

"Boring." He wished he could see Patroclus. Something was going on, and he didn't like being kept in the dark as to what. "What was the fight about? Were you defending someone's honour?"

It wasn't far fetched. Patroclus seemed the noble type.

But, "No," came through the phone. "It was... they've always been mean. It's just regular bully stuff. They always pick on someone, I just happened to be in the wrong place."

Achilles didn't believe him again. Sometimes he wished people were as honest as he was. Secrecy did nothing but worry those around them. At least with the truth he could deal with it, advise with it.

"I hope you got a few good punches in."

The tales after that night were steadily worse. Another fight. Falling asleep on the phone. One time he even heard the beginnings of an argument between Patroclus and his father. Well, it was more Patroclus' father shouting at him before the phone went dead.

The worst night was the third week after school began. He had just trudged back into his cabin from his astronomy lesson, and was looking forward to talking with Patroclus. The satyr was dead on his feet, collapsing into his bed as soon as it was near enough.

Achilles had his phone in hand as soon as he finished putting his pyjamas on. It rang. Rang, and rang. Patroclus didn't pick up. Not that night. Nor the night after.

The fourth night he didn't pick up Achilles tossed some stolen fake feet at the satyr. "We're going out."

The satyr looked like someone had just shaved its legs. "Chiron-"

"Won't know if you don't tell him."

He dug up his gold band, wrapping it on his head so he wouldn't lose it. His father had sent some pocket money in his last letter, he grabbed it now and made sure he had enough for two return trips.

"But- why are you telling me? Why not just go on your own?"

He was looking more panicked the longer Achilles waited for him.

"Because you're a satyr. You're charged with protecting me. I don't want you to feel guilty if something happens, so you're coming," Achilles reasoned.

The satyr looked too lost to even think about arguing some more. With only a few more seconds of delay he put his shoes on and gathered anything they might need.

The bus ride was tense. The satyr was a mess beside him, whimpering about this being a bad idea.

"I'm invulnerable, and the son of a minor goddess. If any monster does sniff me out, I'll probably be fine," He reassured.

It did nothing, and the more the satyr worried the more his mood affected Achilles. Patroclus was probably fine. He was probably exhausted. But what if he wasn't?

As soon as they arrived he was racing up the Venus strewn path to Patroclus' house. The windows were dark, save one that showed Patroclus' mother sculpting a Cupid's hand.

"Think she'll give us one if we ask?" The satyr asked, admiring the work.

"No. But she will make us one," Achilles said, scouring the windows again for Patroclus'. "I've already put an order in." He found it. "Stay here. I'll be back out soon."

The climb up was nothing. The windows, when he got there, had the curtains closed and room as dark as the rest of the house. He tried tapping, whispering Patroclus' name. Nothing.

For ten minutes he sat there hoping Patroclus would let him in. When the satyr eventually called him down he was more worried than ever.

This was what he had feared when school started up. They already didn't see each other, and now Patroclus was ignoring him.

They were going to break up. There was no other explanation for this. Now all he had to do was wait for the damning call.

"He's probably just out," The satyr tried, as he had been since they got on the bus. "Mortals do that. Go out. He might have went to a party, or stayed over at a friends. Just because he's not in doesn't mean you have to assume the worst."

"But why hasn't he called?" He heard himself say. He found himself actually wanting to hear an answer. Persuade himself that the satyr was right and this was just a misunderstanding.

"Maybe he's planning a surprise for you."

So not helpful at all. Patroclus wasn't really one for surprises. He was too honest.

The issue with Patroclus started to affect his performance in camp. He was spacey in his Greek lessons. Angry in his sparring. No one wanted to fight with him anymore. The only one who put up with him was the satyr, and he was there involuntarily. By the time Odysseus first called him he was in the sourest mood he had ever experienced.

"You should make up with your mother," Odysseus suggested.

"And why would I do that?" Achilles asked. As far as he was concerned she hadn't apologised yet.

"Because she can find Patroclus for you. She probably already knows where he is. You don't have to mean it to say sorry you know," Odysseus said with all his usual wit.

"It's immoral," Achilles murmured.

He heard Odysseus sigh over the phone. "Yes, I forgot who I was talking to. Fine, then think of it this way. She's left Patroclus alone, she's sorry. She's never going to say so Achilles, so take what you can get and end this stupid spat."

"She's not going to say sorry," Achilles agreed with a huff.

"Go soon," Odysseus said.

After that Achilles wiled the hours away listening to Odysseus' college antics. As much as he wanted to make amends with his mother and find out what was going on with Patroclus, he hadn't heard from his friend in almost a month.

It turned out Odysseus was causing as much trouble there as he did in camp. Freshers week, he had made a few friends and a lot of enemies. His room mate was among them. Apparently Odysseus had played his music too loud and didn't like his room mate's tone when he was asked to lower it.

"So I planted speakers in the walls and in that girl's room he said he was in love with in the first week and blasted 'gangster's paradise'. He came apologising after two days of constant playing. The best bit is he cringes whenever it comes on now. Such fun to play with."

His lessons were interesting apart from that. He was excelling in a few subjects, including classics. Others however, he found challenging.

"Too much reading," He complained. "I wouldn't mind it so much if the content was actually interesting. But Frankenstein becomes a bore after a while. Self loathing is only fun for three pages. Not to mention the critical around it is too commendable to be real."

His complaints filled the night until, finally, he was forced to go to sleep. Achilles laughed at Odysseus' room mate shouting at him. Apparently he had been there all along, listening to Odysseus bitch about him. His friend must have really spooked him for his tongue to be held so long.

"Talk to your mother," were Odysseus' last words.

Which he did.

Thetis was silent the first few minutes they appraised one another.

"I've come to make amends mother," Achilles started.

She didn't look surprised. She never looked surprised. But she did look happy. "I received your sacrifice this morning. I'm glad you agree to put this business behind us."

"So long as you don't meddle with this part of my life mother, I don't see why we should continue our disagreement." He received a nod from her. The best he would get.

They stood along the shore for a few minutes longer. He could feel his mother looking him over. Seeing if he was okay and eating properly.

"I take it you want to know where your mortal is?" She eventually said.

Achilles nodded, trying not to look too eager. "If you know, I'd like to hear it."

A sigh, like the breeze a wave made sounded. "He is at the mall, presently. By tonight he will have returned to the park where he has been sleeping."

"Sleeping?"

He knew something wasn't right.

"The mortal has taken refuge by the pond. Don't expect me to harbour him another night." She was gone before he could ask anything more.

The satyr was just as nervous as last time when Achilles told him they were sneaking out. Once he explained his purpose however, he was a bit less against the act.

All along the bus route Achilles thought over his mothers words. She had been harbouring him. Keeping him safe. It was better than an spoken apology to him. An almost accepting move towards his and Patroclus' relationship. It also meant something had happened. Something at home, otherwise he would be there.

It took time to track down which park his mother meant. Many of them had a pond. But it would have to have been a specific one in order for his mother to have any jurisdiction in that area. He eventually found it. A stream that led in from the sea. It was easy to get to as well. No extra bus ride, just a few minutes walk.

Patroclus was among the trees when Achilles found him. His hair was a mess of tangles, but other than that he looked presentable. No doubt he had been using the mall to clean up. It was what Odysseus and he did when they were on quests. Public places were good like that.

He was shocked to see him. Standing and wiping himself down like Achilles would think less of him covered in a bit of dirt.

"How did you know I was here?" He asked.

Achilles bit his lip, fighting with what to say. "My mother told me," he eventually settled with. "She saw you. What are you doing here?" He asked before Patroclus could think about that too much. "What's happened?"

"Nothing," Patroclus said.

But it wasn't nothing. It was like the first night he sneaked into Patroclus' house. Artemis was shedding her silver light on Patroclus' skin, showing the cut running from his eye and the bruises that mottled around it.

The satyr held him back from getting closer. He seemed to know what Achilles was about to do before he did as he said, "No. You can't. The rules are there for a reason."

"Rules? Rules are meant to be broken." He pushed the satyr out the way and grasped Patroclus' chin to get a better look. His wounds were bad. Made by fists from the shape of them. "Who did this?"

A small smile crept into the maze of bruises. "You're doing it again. I can't understand you."

"Who did this?" He repeated again in English.

"Don't ask," Patroclus begged.

He didn't have to again. It was all so clear in his location and mannerisms.

"You're coming back with me. You can phone your mother when we get there and tell her where you are. No negotiation," He ordered.

Patroclus didn't try to argue. His rough nights must have been harder than Achilles imagined.

"We're going to get in so much trouble," He heard the satyr mutter as Patroclus gathered what little he had.

"Then we do. But are you seriously suggesting we let him stay here another night?" Achilles hissed to him.

Even that the satyr couldn't disagree with.

The bus ride back to camp was full of hissing 'what ifs'. Even if the satyr wasn't arguing about bringing Patroclus, that didn't mean he wasn't worried about the mortal finding out about them. Achilles heard three stories of induced insanity from reveals. Not only that but others starting fights, calling authorities, anything bad and Achilles was hearing about it.

"It's just up here," Achilles said, racing up to mutter Patroclus' invitation before he could hear it.

When he finally joined Achilles at the top he had no problem being let in.

He wondered, as he led Patroclus through the cabins, whether he saw them as Achilles did. Some mortals had the ability to see through the mist that clouded them from seeing monsters and Gods. If he couldn't, Achilles wondered what he did see. Whether it was just all wooden cabins and an old mess hall like other camps had. Or whether he saw something more glamorous.

Thankfully Achilles cabin was as plain as they came. There was no way he could see this any differently. The satyr left them here. Even if Patroclus could see through the mist it was better to leave it until morning. With the satyr here it would be hard to do this, tired as they were, there was no way they would miss the hooves underneath the fake shoes.

"Just put your bag anywhere," Achilles gestured. His room was a mess, there wasn't any way Patroclus could make it even more so. "We have showers if you want one before bed. Other than that, I guess you should pick a bunk," He rambled, not really knowing what to do with himself.

Patroclus cleared his throat, "So I won't be bunking with you then?"

He hadn't thought of that. For one, because his bunk was too narrow. Another because he thought Patroclus might want his space tonight.

"You can," Achilles assured. "Of course you can." He would squeeze into a coffin with Patroclus if he wanted.

"I'm glad to see you kept them," Patroclus said, shifting the tension to something less awkward. His gaze was fixed on Achilles walls where his posters were.

The first gift he had ever gotten from Patroclus, and a reminder of the day they met. Achilles knew, even if his music tastes shifted, he would keep them. They meant more to him now than just decoration.

"They're my favourite musicians."

Patroclus nodded, his hands rubbing his jeans, "I think I will take that shower."

It was another sneaking around trip. They couldn't risk a light on. Nor could they risk the water on full. Patroclus was stuck with a slow dribble that splattered to the floor, a truly pitiful shower. But one that couldn't be helped when there were harpies and half bloods waiting to hunt them down.

"Stop looking," Patroclus said when he came out.

He was still naked with one of Achilles Nemo towels around his hips. Quite frankly how Patroclus expected him to not look when so much skin was on show was beyond him. Thankfully that wasn't what he meant, his words becoming clearer as he fingered one of the bruises. "They're not that bad. There's no infection in the cut and the bruises don't indicate anything's broken. I'm fine."

"Should have know you would diagnose yourself."

"I'm fine," He insisted, eyes boring into Achilles.

"I wish I could believe you," He heard himself say.

"I'm fine," Patroclus said again. He gave Achilles a short kiss as if to prove it. "I don't suppose you have any clothes that would fit?"

Achilles looked him over. He could probably steal a camp shirt in Patroclus' size from somewhere. Some shorts too. But that could wait until morning.

"How about I don't find you clothes and we rely on body heat to keep ourselves warm?"

Patroclus laughed and let himself be towed back to Achilles cabin.


	4. Chapter 4

The satyr came to wake them in the morning. Wearing his fake shoes and a beanie over his horns, he looked like any other kid as he shook them awake.

"It's almost six." His meaning clear. If Patroclus was going to hide, they needed to be one step ahead. Unfortunately, waking them wasn't the only reason he was there. "There's a surprise inspection. Apparently someone let slip that the cabins have been below standard since summer ended."

He didn't want to put the blame on anyone. He didn't have time to put the blame on anyone. He needed to clean. He also needed to hide Patroclus. Someone would definitely tell if they found him in here.

"How long until they come?" If he was right it was the Hypnos and Nemesis counsellors were meant to be leading the inspection this time. The Hypnos kid would probably sleep right through it. But Nemesis, well he'd only seen that level of clean from the Athena cabin. According to them, revenge wasn't sought in a messy room. Good revenge anyway.

"As soon as the klaxon sounds," the satyr said.

Not enough time.

Jumping up, he set to the fig mountain at the corner of his room. "Take Patroclus to the showers. If anyone comes in, hide him in a stall," He ordered.

"But what if he sees something?" The satyr hissed, smiling back at Patroclus like he couldn't tell they were talking about him.

"He won't so long as you hurry," He murmured back.

Patroclus was still sitting silently through their discussions, wiping the last of sleep away. He looked a bit amused as Achilles dove towards the clothes lying strewn on the floor. So Achilles chucked a shirt at him, if only to wipe that distracting look from his face. He would never get anything done if he was busy admiring Patroclus.

"Try not to be found," he begged.

Patroclus nodded, slinging the shirt around his shoulders and grabbing Achilles Nemo towel from last night. "Are you sure you don't want me to help a bit?"

His room really was a mess.

Still, he shook his head and pushed him and the satyr towards the showers. Gone, and he took to cleaning. The satyr made little to no mess, which made that side of the cabin easy to clean. His own stuff slightly longer. The clothes he easily shoved in a bag or drawer, reminding himself that he needed to get Patroclus some clothes. Which just left his figs. Why in Demeter's name did he pick so many?

He ended up stowing them in Patroclus' backpack. It was the only place with enough space to hide them all.

Inspection cam with a knock. Sure enough it was the Hypnos and Nemesis leaders. The Nemesis kid didn't look too happy with his partner, who took one look at Achilles cabin and said it was fine before drifting off. The Nemesis kid took slightly longer with his evaluation, looking here and there for anything he could mark down.

Eventually however he had to admit it was "Passable. You won't be on extra duties this time." and left to the Hecate cabin.

As soon as they were out of sight he sprinted towards the showers. Everyone was busy with inspection. Those who weren't were walking towards breakfast. Some with low heads, while others passed off their own opinions to the cabins they passed. The nymphs and nereids were all awake, and waved to him as he passed. The satyrs, as if sensing the heavenly spirits' presence, were sprinting almost as fast as Achilles to see them.

There was no way Patroclus was going to miss any of this when they came out.

The satyr was thinking the same, if the way he was chewing his shirt was anything to go by. Achilles slapped it away when he got near, sighing at the hole he had already made in the material.

"Go to breakfast. I can handle the rest," Achilles said.

The satyr looked like he wanted to say something, but the thought of breakfast was stronger. His stomach rumbled, and he was gone towards the pavilion in a flash.

"Patroclus?" Achilles called, and received a reply from the far stall.

He was still naked, and shining slightly as the water bounced down his skin. Achilles took a minute to take that image in, before stripping off himself.

"We only have an hour before breakfast ends," he warned.

"I'm not the one jumping in the shower," Patroclus countered. Yet his still helped Achilles as he wrapped his legs around his waist.

"Be quiet," Achilles whispered, wasting no time in taking his shower.

They knew breakfast was over when the Apollo brothers lorded over their dibs in the showers to the others.

Achilles kept the two of them low as the others undressed. Grabbing his Nemo towel, he covered Patroclus' head and led him the short walk to his clothes.

"Who's that?" One of them asked.

"New camper," Achilles said and hurried them on before they could ask anything else. "The bottom stall's free."

He shoved his shorts on before replacing the towel with his shirt. Not letting it slip over Patroclus' head he wrapped the towel around Patroclus' hips and led him back to his cabin.

"You're going to have to come up with a better system," Patroclus told him as he put the shirt on properly. He was broader than Achilles, the material stretching over his chest.

"Sorry. I know I'd hate it if I had to sneak around."

"It's better than the park," Patroclus offered. "Besides, now I know what it was like for you every time you sneaked into my house."

They spent the morning going over this and that. Achilles telling the cover story of the camp.

"It's a strawberry farm."

Patroclus finally telling Achilles what happened. It started the second week he was back. He was in the middle of science, taking dutiful notes when someone snatched his book from him. It was one of the bullies he had mentioned previously. They had spotted something when he was flitting through his pages. Patroclus had been writing Achilles name in the margins. They teased him about it. First about the hero. Until Patroclus had let it slip that Achilles was actually the name of a boy he knew. After that it was torment about his sexuality.

He was set on ignoring them. But it went too far one day which ended in a fight.

"I actually got a few good punches in before they separated us. I suppose that's what had them coming back again."

After the third fight the teachers broke up they called Patroclus' father in.

"Mother doesn't mind the whole boyfriend thing," he said. "Father said it was because she was simple. I don't know why it bothered me so much when he said it. He always has. But that night I guess it was just one thing too many and I ended up..."

"Standing up for yourself," Achilles said before Patroclus could make it something to be ashamed of.

"I guess," Patroclus agreed.

His father was the one to give him the cut. The bruises had been from the others.

"Do you want to call your mother?" Achilles asked when he was finished.

The phone was already in hand, just waiting for Patroclus to agree. But he shook his head.

"She'll just tell dad. He was pretty clear what he thought of me. I don't fancy hearing it again any time soon."

So they did something else instead. Missing breakfast was easily solved by the many figs Achilles had hidden away. Once fed, they made their way to the surf. There wasn't anything too unusual at this part of the camp. At most they would see a sea monster. Thankfully that didn't happen, and instead they spent the day swimming.

They spent the afternoon sneaking around the strawberry fields. It was a challenge for Achilles. On the one hand he had to hide from Chiron. The centaur was most likely on the warpath looking for him by now, he was meant to be having his archery lessons after all. Then there was Patroclus. The Demeter and Dionysius kids were busy playing and tending to the strawberry patches, the vines growing and bees scampering to make the strawberries perfect. It was only slightly unusual, which was why Achilles had chosen this side of camp. But it was still enough to cause suspicion, so Achilles made sure he kept an eye on what was in his eyesight.

"These are the best strawberries I've ever had," Patroclus confessed.

"I know."

It finally came time when sneaking fruit from around the camp wouldn't do. Not to mention there was the prospect of steak on the go. So Achilles took a chance and attempted to sneak Patroclus into the pavilion.

"Who are you?" Achilles asked again, they had been at it for a while. True to his word he managed to steal some shorts and a shirt for Patroclus. They fit him better than Achilles shirt. But the bright colours clashed horrible with Patroclus' skin.

"A new camper."

"And whose cabin are you in?"

"Hermes?" Patroclus asked, and Achilles nodded. There were so many kids coming and going through the Hermes cabin that they often lost track these days who was still with them. Even if they were year rounders. "I've just realised a lot of things around here are mythology related."

Achilles shrugged, "It's a theme camp," Which was true. "Okay, again. Who are you?"

When it came time for dinner everything was going smoothly. Patroclus filed onto the end of the Hermes line and took his seat with them. Achilles watched from afar as he blended in. The Hermes campers didn't realise anything was up and talked, joked with him until Mr D and his cabin came past. There was only three of them, but a God was a God and they paid their respects. Achilles just thanked his mother that he had the forethought to prepare Patroclus before they joined the others. He told him that there would be satyrs and a lot of pretty girls.

"Like dress up?" He had asked. Achilles hadn't replied. He didn't want to lie, but leading Patroclus on was too easy to discard. So he had let him think what he liked.

He also told him to bow to the camp director, saying it was a hierarchy thing. He seemed to accept this without question, and thankfully did it when the time came.

So all in all it was going smoothly. Until a hand clamped down on his shoulders and he met Chiron's gaze. He was in his wheelchair. Anything that might have linked him to his centaur image was hidden away. That didn't mean he was any less terrifying. Not with a look like that.

"Patroclus," Was his only word, and Achilles knew he had been found out.

He followed the man back to the big house, giving Patroclus an encouraging look when he looked to be about to follow.

On the porch and Chiron thought this safe enough to talk.

Achilles started before the lecture began. "He ran away. His dad hit him and my mother wouldn't look after him another night. I didn't know what to do, and it's not like we haven't had mortals here before. Once upon a time we used to live among them like anyone else. They knew about us and-"

He stopped as Chiron held up a silencing hand. "I'm not saying this wasn't a good decision Achilles. I just want you to realise what you've done to Patroclus. Demigods have always been able to defend themselves in the mortal world. But mortals in ours... you must know what you've opened Patroclus' eyes too."

"He doesn't know anything," Achilles reassured. "I made sure of it. We haven't seen anything unusual all day. And he thinks the satyrs are just dressed up."

Chiron just gave him a sad look. "Think carefully about what you're doing." Then he heard, but knew he wasn't meant to. " _That poor boy."_

He led Achilles back to the pavilion after that. Despite being set the all clear, he couldn't help noticing the pointed conversation Chiron had with Mr D. Nor the worried looks Patroclus was giving him.

His satyr was back on his trail as they went to the camp fire.

"You're to take him back to your cabin," he said. "Chiron wants to make sure people know about your guest."

Patroclus didn't argue about going straight to the cabin either.

"I'm sorry I got you into trouble," he said.

"You didn't."

"What did Rue say to you?" Patroclus asked.

"Rue?"

He frowned at Achilles, "The boy who woke us this morning. You're saying you don't know his name?"

"Not really. And he was just telling me I should take you back to our cabin. You look tired."

Patroclus stripped off as soon as the door closed behind him.

"I should go," He said, rummaging through his backpack for his other clothes.

He pointed towards the hamper, "You don't have to. Chiron was just warning me to make sure you were alright here."

"Chiron..." Patroclus hummed, then blinked harshly as if to clear his head. "Are you sure you're not in trouble?"

"I would tell you," Achilles confirmed. "You know I don't like lying."

That seemed to put an end to that train of thought.

The rest of the evening, to make up for not being at the camp sing-along Achilles played his lyre for Patroclus. He was encouraged to four encores before fatigue caught up with them and they curled up together on Achilles bunk.

Chiron woke them in the morning. Still in his wheelchair he rolled himself in and took a look around the cabin.

"Patroclus," He greeted with a nod.

The boy himself was flattening his hair as much as he could, trying to make it look like he hadn't been sharing a bed with Achilles. He would have to train that out of him, Achilles thought. There was no shame in what they did.

"It's nice to meet you sir," Patroclus said back.

"I've come here to make sure you're alright," Chiron started, and looked over Patroclus. He motioned him to come closer, and Patroclus did with a hesitant step. "May I?" He asked, and Patroclus bent down so he could look over the bruises properly. "I should like to put something on that cut. The bruises on the other hand, there's nothing I can do for them."

"Nothings broken," Achilles piped up, remembering what Patroclus had told him.

"Yes I can tell," Chiron agreed. "I'll take you to the infirmary myself Patroclus. As for you Achilles, you've neglected your studies long enough. I expect good reviews today."

Achilles heard himself huff, then sigh as Patroclus dutifully gathered his stolen clothes and followed Chiron out.

Patroclus turned out to be the talk of the camp. People asked him questions as he made his way to breakfast. It was like he was a different species as they asked what he was like, what he was doing there. What was his favourite colour? Was he Achilles boyfriend? That one had been asked by the Aphrodite girls. All of them laughing when he said yes.

"It's fate," One girl cooed.

"That's what I said," Achilles gushed.

He stuck with them for most of his lessons. Unlike the others they were more concerned with Patroclus and Achilles relationship. While he didn't mind talking about Patroclus in general, he enjoyed lamenting about him even more. The Aphrodite girls got that, and enjoyed listening to him talk about their first meeting.

He didn't see Patroclus until dinner. Somehow, a short trip to the infirmary turned into a day long thing. When he did turn up he regarded Achilles a moment, looking him over for something, before a grin split over face and he shoved a book under Achilles nose.

"It's a medical text. Chiron said he trains up doctors here, and said he wouldn't mind teaching me a few things."

"That's great!" No wonder it took him so long.

Patroclus went into an animated speech after that, showing Achilles this and that in the large book. It was unfortunately written in English, meaning Achilles could only keep up with half of what he said.

"And it gets better," Patroclus went on, taking something from his shorts pocket. It was a slip of paper with even more illegible scribblings. "I phoned my mother. Chiron talked to her and my dad and they said I could stay here a few weeks. Well, my mother did. Dad's still angry with me. As far as he's concerned I could be dead in a ditch."

"Chiron said that?" A few weeks? There was no way he could keep everything weird away from Patroclus for so long. He caught Chiron's eyes, he couldn't help the feeling that this was his punishment.

"Yes." Patroclus' face fell, "You don't want me here."

"What! Of course I do. We can go swimming and I can teach you archery. We can spend all day together," Achilles chimed. "I was just surprised. So what else did Chiron tell you?"

A lot more about medicine was Patroclus' answer. Chiron had introduced Patroclus to a few of the Apollo cabin mates, who also were studying to be doctors. They had given Patroclus more than the one bible in front of them. The rest were back at the cabin.

"Look at this," Patroclus gushed, pointing at a diagram. "It has everything. This is like four books in one."

"I'm glad you like it here."

Patroclus spent most of the night reading his books. He had the decency to go to another bunk so as not to keep Achilles up. But if anything that made him stay up later. He would lie there and watch Patroclus mouth along to what he was reading. Wishing that he was there, in that bunk, curled up with him. He had only had that skin next to his for three nights now, a shockingly short time to grow used to sleeping together. Yet Achilles had.

He ended up drifting off watching the light play off Patroclus' skin, reminding him of that far off dream he had.

The weeks seemed to stretch on like a blissful dream. No longer did he have to wait for evening, or Chiron to turn a blind eye to see Patroclus. Now, all he had to do was roam around camp, or turn his head and Patroclus was there.

They took a few days out of camp, with Chiron chaperoning, to Patroclus' house. The centaur distracted Patroclus' parents while the two of them sneaked into his room to steal some clothes and books. Achilles couldn't help pick up the little pegasus, already placing where he would put it in their cabin. He was thankful Chiron didn't linger when they gave the signal they were done. If he had, Achilles was scared he might confront Patroclus' father, who was at that moment spewing some rather disgusting things about his own flesh and blood. He was thankful when they got back to camp.

Everyone was behaving when they got there. Sure, the satyrs still went around unchecked, and the nature spirits seemed odd to look at. But modern society had made it so Patroclus looked, and thought it was some kind of costume. Either that, or the mist was working itself again and hiding anything unusual from sight. The campers were nice enough to Patroclus too. He came to dinner one night with so many names that Achilles was surprised they all lived here. He was found out that Patroclus was most friendly with the Apollo cabin. The future medics enjoyed including him in their discussions, and, even more, enjoyed having Patroclus read the common English texts to them.

One night, as Achilles put his lyre away, Patroclus thrust a book into his hands.

It wasn't until he said, "I'm sleepy. Read to me?" that he realised he wasn't just holding it for Patroclus.

Achilles panicked, and took his time settling down to try and get to grips with what he was reading. The cover was bright orange, a similar shade to their camp shirts, with lettering and an outline in white that took too long to decipher. Patroclus watched expectantly from their pillow, and, not wanting to disappoint, he did his best to read to him.

"Here," Patroclus pointed out, flipping to the right page for him.

Everything was a mess of small black dots on a white canvas. They kept mixing together so long it took a few seconds before he was able to make out the first word. After that he sounded like a toddler who just learned to read. "His noble limbs were slack beneath him, and dazed he stood there. A Dardanian, Panthous' son Euphorbus, the best spearman, horseman and runner of his generation-" the book was taken out of his hands.

Patroclus tossed it over the side. A grim satisfaction overcoming him as he burrowed back underneath the blankets.

"Who told you?" Achilles guessed.

"Rue," He answered honestly. "I was asking where the medical texts were. The ones the others had." Achilles remembered them. They had to be specially made by older, former, campers so their protégées could get to grips with the material more comfortably. "He told me why they were different. I didn't realise it was everyone here."

Achilles vowed to smash Patroclus' father's face in when he next saw him. His shoulders were tight, and he was watching Achilles like he was waiting for a slap.

"I didn't mean to pry," he added on.

"It's common knowledge," Achilles soothed. "I should have told you ages ago, but I guess I didn't want you to go out of your way for me. My dad does it. He reads things out so I don't have to bother. It doesn't help me in the long run, I'm quite lazy now."

Patroclus huffed, his shoulders slacking until he was reaching to pull Achilles to him.

"You're the most energetic boy I know. There's no way you're lazy."

His dyslexia wasn't the only thing Patroclus found out.

They were taking a midnight shower. He had wanted to take a swim in the ocean, but the thought of his mother catching them was too strong to risk it. So they had gathered their towels and started the slow trickle of water to bathe each other in a slippery sheen.

Achilles could feel Patroclus' muscles' working as he held him up, the two of them humping like animals. It had been too long since he felt Patroclus like this. Even when they slept next to each other they didn't dare attempt anything. Rue had made it his duty to stick to Achilles like glue when he wasn't with Patroclus. Even when he was, Rue often barged in on them. He had made a friend in Patroclus. The two of them enjoyed looking through the forest together, Rue telling of the plants names and Patroclus how they could be used for medicinal purposes.

The last time they had truly been like this was on his day here, and Achilles had sorely longed to be like this again. He wasted no time diving a hand between them. Patroclus was hard under his touch, the skin sliding smoothly through his hand.

The stall banged against his back, he didn't care to feel it, too absorbed in Patroclus to notice. He was near bent in half as Achilles stroked him. His mouth working fervently at Achilles neck for lack of anything to do.

"Come now Patroclus," Achilles grinned, "If you keep up like this we aren't going to last long at all."

"Deviant," Patroclus accused.

"Put me down," Achilles begged, turning as soon as Patroclus let him go.

He turned Patroclus to the stall, his dream from weeks ago tickling the back of his mind. He didn't understand, looking back, how Patroclus could want to worship him. If there was one deity in this stall it was him. Achilles was fast, and strong, but Patroclus was everything good in the world. He was the one who put up with Achilles' antics and moods. He deserved nothing but the Isles of the blessed, or better, a seat in Olympus. Achilles knew he would sacrifice to him daily if he were a God, and did so now as he reached back and pulled Patroclus until he was flush with him. It took coaxing, and a lot of persuasion before Achilles gave himself over to the rhythm of Patroclus' hips. He watched Patroclus' cock appear through his thighs, clasping on to the hands that clasped his chest. It was erotic, obscene, he loved every moment of it. When they were finished, curling up under the pathetic camp spray, he lavished kisses on Patroclus' skin. He couldn't get enough of him. He doubted one lifetime would be enough to love this boy. He would need at least three, maybe seven. Then eternity.

"I love you," Achilles slurred, drunk on love.

He felt more than heard Patroclus hum under him. "I love you too. My beloved."

Achilles frowned, there was something not right with Patroclus' speech. He asked Patroclus to say it again, his suspicions confirmed when Patroclus tensed. "Did I not say it right?"

He went over Patroclus' words again in his head, and again, until he pin pointed why Patroclus would be concerned he didn't say it right. It was because he didn't say it in English. _Er_ _ô_ _menos_. That was what he said.

"Where did you hear that?" He eventually asked.

"I heard you say it," Patroclus confessed. "Then I asked some of the campers. The girls laughed. It means beloved right, they didn't just say that?"

"No. It's right. I was just surprised."

He made him say it again. Again. Then another three times until he got the pronunciation right. After that he just wanted to hear himself be complimented.

The weeks went past and suddenly it was November.

November turned out to be a good month. Patroclus finally let Achilles teach him about the spear. He had caught Patroclus watching him a couple of times, and told him it was his favourite weapon.

Patroclus had long accepted that he was in a summer camp. In the whole time he was here he managed to keep away from anything too physical, preferring to stay with the Apollo campers- or when that failed the Aphrodite and Dionysus kids. Achilles thought it wasn't from lack of skill, but confidence that put Patroclus off. He was proven right when Patroclus asked him to teach him.

Most of the sporty activities had been brought inside now the weather was colder, save those that had to be done outside like chariot racing. Achilles was one of the last who braved the winds to practice outside. With no one around, Patroclus must have thought this the ideal way to learn something interesting without making too much of a fool of himself.

He had his newly made spear. One Achilles had gifted to him after one of the times he spied Patroclus watching him. He had it specially made by the Hephaestion cabin. It was a mixture of steel and celestial bronze, something a mortal could use and still fight monsters off with. Not that they would know it. The whole metal was mixed together, meaning any part of it could obliterate them. But from the outset it looked like only the tips and rings were made from celestial bronze. He'd also asked them to put something special on the shaft. Short grooves that showed the hero Patroclus putting Achilles armour on. He knew it wasn't exactly a happy story, but one that was nevertheless quite powerful. It was a time when a mortal did what a demigod wouldn't, and made his name echo down in history. Patroclus had been surprised when he gifted it to him. He spent the whole night lavishing attention on it, asking how to take care of it and what the hell he was supposed to do with it. In answer, he had gotten his own spear and gave an informative, if rather suggestive cleaning tutorial.

After the first couple of throws he was certain it was mostly a confidence issue that ailed Patroclus. Every time he missed he would make some kind of apology before retrieving it.

"I told you I wasn't very good at sports."

Achilles held his tongue and went to fetch the spear himself this time. He wasn't surprised to find it a good ways in the dirt. The boy had strength. Achilles knew from being held in those arms.

He appraised the target to the left of him. If it wasn't strength it was aim. Something they could work on with confidence and practice.

The first he tried by telling Patroclus to "Try again." He handed the spear over, adjusted Patroclus' grip accordingly and watched him throw. It missed like before, but it was closer than last time. He made sure to tell Patroclus this with an "Almost!" Grinning and pecking Patroclus on the cheek before fetching the spear.

On his next throw Patroclus got the edge of the target. He got a full kiss for that. By the end of their lesson Patroclus had made the target almost every time. He was so confident that it was Achilles that eventually hurried them inside. He was starting to fear for Patroclus' health after a sniff turned into a full blown sneeze.

That wasn't the last time Patroclus joined him for practice. He had a talent for it, and Achilles was enjoying teaching him- if only for all the kisses he got. As soon as the snow fell however, they had to take their lessons inside. Firstly so Patroclus wouldn't freeze to death. Secondly because as soon as he did Patroclus donned a very infamous and tight pair of school authorised gym shorts.

Achilles couldn't stop staring at them. He even saw a few other campers sneak an appreciative peak as well. They were a deep red, the kind he would associate with gummy hearts, and stopped mid thigh. Miles of dark skin followed, cut off by a pair of scruffy trainers teased him. The muscles taut as Achilles showed him a few basic defensive manoeuvres. As soon as they stopped for a water break Achilles had to admit that the view from the back was just as good, if not better, than the front.

They were an old pair, according to Patroclus. He had been waiting for a new pair from school, but with circumstances what they were it was hard to imagine he would ever get them. Achilles hoped he never would.

They were almost obscene the way they hugged him. But no one brought it up so Achilles was assured Patroclus could wear them for weeks to come.

"Achilles!"

He snapped out of his daydream to see the object of his affection facing him again. He grasped his own spear again, righting his grip and Patroclus' again before leading him through a few food manoeuvres. It turned out Patroclus was skilled at this part as well, with a bit of prompting.

It was almost like he was out of practice, Achilles mused over dinner later. He almost subconsciously knew the moves of where Achilles was going to go next. Like he had been training, or watching him, for years and was just trying to fall back into the right pattern.

It was dying one of these newly scheduled sparring matches when Chiron asked for a word with Patroclus. Achilles watched as he near sprinted out of the hall after Chiron's wheelchair. He supposed he had been quite tough on Patroclus today. He wanted to see if he could keep up with the challenge. Surprisingly he could. Better than most beginners actually. It only added to Achilles pondering about Patroclus' skill level.

He didn't see him again until dinner. Panting towards their shared table he relayed the news that Chiron had been in touch with Patroclus' parents. Actually, he hadn't lost touch with them. He had been trying to negotiate a long term plan for Patroclus' schooling and life in general. Not that his parents were bothered. His mother tried. She had sent him a little package, which Patroclus got out now to show Achilles. It was nothing special, just a few memorabilia, like a photo of the two of them and a few books he had forgotten on his raid. Not to mention a letter his father had thought to slip in.

He read it later, a few pages of slander and threats that would send an ordinary man to the cops if they were smart. It only added to the sting of what Chiron told him he'd said. At first, Patroclus' father had inquired about money, happy to support him so long as he was out of the man's sight. Over the weeks his attitude had changed. His current mood was for even Chiron not to harbour them. To toss him out on the streets if he knew what was good for him.

"Chiron said I had to talk to you," Patroclus finished.

They were curled up on their bunk. The light was out, so no one would disturb them, meaning only the moon was able to see them clearly.

"About what?"

There was nothing he could think that would need Achilles opinion of.

It seemed Patroclus didn't see it that way as he shuffled about under the cover. "He wanted me to ask you about staying here. He said I needed your permission."

His permission? "Why?"

He felt Patroclus shrug next to him. "He just said I had to ask."

Achilles hummed low in his throat before climbing over Patroclus and out to the big house. He had to turn back for his pants, but got to the porch in the end.

Chiron tutted at his lack of attire. According to him, just because he was invulnerable it didn't mean he couldn't catch a cold. He broached the topic straight away, should have thought of it himself, answer. Chiron didn't mind harbouring Patroclus, he had said that from the offset, but he did have an issue with keeping the whole camp a secret should Patroclus be staying with them until college.

"He may not be as horrified about the truth as you imagine. Like you said, there was a time when we lived amongst the mortals."

Achilles grumbled all the way back to his cabin. At first, he had been hesitant to tell Patroclus because he didn't want the dark side of being friends with a half blood to weigh on his mind. Now he was scared of that and all the reasons Rue had said it wasn't a good idea. What if Patroclus turned on them. Turned on him. But if he was going to stay here he had to know. It wasn't fair on the other campers. Or Patroclus.

When he got back, the man in question was waiting up for him. He had his orange book in hand, and put it down almost as soon as the door closed. It was such a sweet gesture, and one that had him making his mind up as it usually did when Patroclus was involved.

"You can stay," he said, climbing back into his spot. "But we need to have a talk before we tell Chiron tomorrow."

"Okay." Patroclus agreed his arms coming to wrap around Achilles gain.

The talk went a bit better than expected. At least Achilles thought it was. Patroclus hadn't spoken to him until he finished. It wasn't as if he could deny anything that Achilles said as fake either. He had taken them to the dining pavilion for this talk, where the satyrs and nereids were roaming freely. It was like they knew what Achilles was doing this morning as one of them turned into a tree right in front of them. She turned back later like nothing happened, mouthing a 'sorry' over to them.

"Is that it?" was Patroclus' eventual response.

He didn't look shocked, horrified, or even upset. Just waiting, like he wasn't sure Achilles was finished speaking.

"It?"

Patroclus waved his hand around, "Chiron told me when I first came here. He said I had to know in case a monster broke in."

Patroclus knew. He knew and was still here.

He couldn't help diving over the table to hug him. His questions could wait until his relief had passed.

It eventually did when they were back in their cabin for the night. The two of them were cleaning their weapons when Achilles started the first of his questions. The answers: Achilles wasn't as careful as he thought he was. He suspected something was up when Achilles told him to take a shower the night the Arai attacked. He had thought it was a hound, that the woman had dogs posted. But when none came, and he hedged a look outside, all he saw was nothing but a girl. He found it odd that he had to be scared of a girl, but trusted Achilles enough to think her dangerous and wash any scent off him.

Next came the language. He looked up some of the words Achilles had said when he was at Patroclus' house. 'Love,' 'who,' 'owl,' all of them only connected in the language of Ancient Greek. He had thought Achilles Greek or at least a classics enthusiast, but his answers of being native to America threw him off a bit.

It all eventually came to a head the first night Achilles brought him to camp.

"There was something watching us. It looked like a bird, but it had a human head. Then the satyrs and nereids... there was no way those were costumes."

As for why Patroclus didn't tell Achilles he knew, that was Chirons doing. His punishment for bringing Patroclus here without consultation.

"He said you being on edge for a while would do you some good."

Crafty centaur. To think, he was meant to be the nice one.

They spent the rest of the night going over Patroclus' situation. Achilles wanted to make sure he was okay with all of this. His answer was to take Achilles jaw in both hands and say. "I love you. Monsters and all. It'll make our lives more interesting at any rate."

Things got impossibly better after that. The next morning Achilles introduced him to the camp properly. He gave overviews of the cabins and their campers.

"So which one's Odysseus'?"

Achilles pointed towards the Athena cabin.

"Makes sense," Patroclus said, like most people who meet Odysseus do.

Things got awkward when he then asked about Achilles parents.

"Well my dad's the mortal. I wasn't lying when I told you about him."

"I know," Patroclus said simply, like he didn't believe Achilles capable of lying. At least that was still true.

"My mother. You've met her. She was the one who..." he motioned to the faded bruise on Patroclus' shoulder. The clawed hand that had sparked months of fighting.

"Oh." Now he looked scared. He appraised Achilles, a new found respect showing.

"She won't hurt you. I made her promise." Not in words. But the two of them knew how much Patroclus meant to him now.

Patroclus didn't look too appeased, and latched on to a change in subject like a dying man. Achilles went over the various camp activities again, actually telling Patroclus what they were for. He introduced him to a few other sports too, such as the infamous capture the flag the two of them had skilfully managed to avoid by Achilles sneaking them for a late night swim every Friday. The idea intrigued Patroclus for about three minutes. He asked about the rules and the span of their playing field. It eventually went to bed when they passed a few Ares campers. They were bulky enough to put anyone off from going up against them. Anyone but Achilles. They made their way back to the cabins again as the tour concluded, Achilles shouting a few of the Apollo campers over for some throwing pointers. They joined the sing-along that night, watching the flames change colour until it was time for bed.

Patroclus started taking an active role in camp now Achilles had given his blessing. Chiron found a place for him on the infirmary rota, putting his skills to good use. He came to dinner every night talking to this or that who had been in the infirmary and took a liking to him. Not to mention he had more gory stories to tell than Achilles. He didn't see Patroclus as often with this new role, but he had other duties to put his mind at rest. Namely making sure Odysseus was behaving himself at college. Chiron asked for monthly updates, and even sat himself in on a conversation they had over the phone.

Either he thought they were conspiring or he was worried sick, was Achilles conclusion. Not that he minded. The look on Patroclus' face when Chiron came in without his wheelchair was worth a hundred drachma's and more.

"Put him on," Odysseus said.

"No."

"Put him on. Patroclus!" he called like he could summon Patroclus over. Thankfully he was taking the night shift and had left Achilles to amuse himself.

"How's college?"

He was still causing trouble. His room mate had switched with another, who found Odysseus just as annoying. He had given as good as he could, but eventually switched with someone else. Odysseus was on room mate number five right now. A man called Diomedes. He was a year older, having took a gap year before starting.

"He's different than the others," Odysseus said, an odd tone in his voice.

"You're not in love again are you?" Achilles asked, only half joking. Odysseus in love was scary. Penelope came to mind, the girl still gave him the shivers. Last time Odysseus had actually given him an update about her. They were still together. Odysseus said he was staying at her dorm over Christmas. Insinuation was high in his voice when he said that, almost making Achilles retch with the idea of the two of them copulating. Sex led to children. A child of Odysseus and some girl who managed to one up him would be the Antichrist himself.

As if to further this thought he head, "You know there's only one person for me Pelides. Now what have you done to poor Patroclus?"

Diomedes was odd. Odysseus said he could see him scheming. It was like watching a ticking time bomb, the pair of them waiting to see who would go off first. The man had, naturally, been warned of Odysseus, when he took the room. So it was understandable why he would be on edge. Odysseus on the other hand... it was weird, and something Achilles wasn't going to get an answer to that night.

"Odysseus was asking after you," He told Patroclus as the door creaked. He was polishing his lyre, putting the last of the varnish away before turning and stopping still.

His heart felt like it was going to burst. There, before him, was Patroclus in a chiton. He was like a wet dream come true, which was why Achilles didn't wast any time pouncing on him.

Patroclus took to wearing more Greek clothing after that. He had a feeling the Aphrodite cabin was responsible for making the clothes. Also for dressing him up and leaving him where Achilles could find him. It was almost a compulsion to hitch up the light cloth and ravish Patroclus.

Life at camp truly couldn't be better.


End file.
